Tumgik
#Cpop angst
artistaes · 1 year
Text
genre of my life story: hurt/comfort without the comfort
19 notes · View notes
dropsofletters · 2 years
Text
the miss that missed steps [dsc]
summary: dong sicheng once had women shouting his name at the top of his lungs as they tossed their shirts on stage. now, if anyone were ever to compare him to the drummer he used to be, they’d laugh at his face. he spends his days folding clothes and making sure people don’t make too much noise around the hotel his uncle owns. the same man that told him music would never work.
as an artist, she can create beautiful things, but a relationship has never been one then. with graduation passing by in front of her eyes, leaving with her roommates and good memories, this new beginning of her life comes with a grand lie.
they both say they have their lives together. sicheng says he can unlock any door if he puts his mind into it. she says she can lie about having a relationship and not burn herself in the process.
three lies. just three months of lying and it’ll be done for.
Tumblr media
title: the miss that missed steps pairing: dong sicheng x reader genre: slice of life!au ; artist!au ; landlord-ish!au ; previous rockstar!au ; fake dating!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au word count: 15,455 words type: angst ; fluff ; suggestive ; humor ; real life shenanigans
Booming bass. Cheers. Clinking glasses. Sounds that she should not connect to the worst experience that she could go through in an October afternoon when the air is too dense with humidity. She should be at home, laying down in bed while lurking through her Netflix account and catching up with those shows that she did not pay attention to in the past semester she cursed, but that is far from the case.
The culprit of the rampant headache-turning-migraine that locates within half of her face and dissipates to her heart comes with a name. Daeri, her classmate and supposed closest friend. This word quoted, highlighted and asked for source because it hasn’t felt like that in a while.
This hotel that Daeri rented for a girls-and-boyfriends night out exudes eccentricity. Each wall is a crimson red, bathed in the violet and blue glow from inside the room with just a thin glass resting in the middle of the door. She can see the tall man that is hanging around Daeri, who was not there seven months ago—the last time she saw her, just before graduation—, wearing a suit from head to toe that lifts up the slightest when he leans with his microphone to sing alongside his loved one.
The Daeri that she knew was aware that romance is difficult for her. It’s prickling roses and bittersweet alcohol that leaves her with more of a headache than with a hungover hues, forbidding her of remembering. The Daeri she knew looks so much like the one seated with a band on her finger, caressing the plush cheeks of the man that smiles at her as if he is the whole world.
Two years ago, she opted to have that…and it was anything but that found-love that brings happiness and calmness.
She hears the tapping of fingers against the dizzying, blood-colored walls, followed by the rolling of wheels that has her looking over her shoulder. Whoever is skating in the middle of this hotel might as well be over-the-top crazy, but that’s the least of her worries. A turn of her head gives her a nice glance of plush lips that part the slightest when gasping and falling to his knees. The carpet digs in the balls of his quite delicate hands, long legs thudding loudly and earning a hang of his head.
“Oh,” She moves closer to him, pressing a hand to his shoulder, bony to the touch yet, quite warm. Like the caress of red that presses to the lobes of his ears and damps his neck in shades that would make a perfect Valentine’s Day palette. “Are you okay?”
The guy in question looks like he works here. A quite unpolished uniform rests on his body, with golden brimming on the sleeves in a navy-blue colored sea. One of the buttons that should be right under his Adam’s apple is missing, strands of long black hair framing the delicacy of a face that is all round edges and glimmers of rose-gold.
He nods, as if he can’t find his voice, sitting down on the floor and swallowing thickly. “Nothing happened. You don’t have to worry.”
She pulls away at that moment, her hand hovering in the air like the stupidest motion she could do. For some reason, there is something about him that is quite captivating, but upon first touch, he cuts the roots that make him connect to the floor that people step up. As if he wants to be far, far away.
“I see.” She lurks through her purse, getting out an alcohol-spraying bottle before offering it to him, waving it in front of his palms. “You must have bruised yourself.”
“That’ll burn.” His deep voice says as a matter of fact, his eyes gleaming under the weight of his straight eyebrows frowning at her.
No shit, Sherlock; she wants to bite, instead, she kneels in front of him. “Quite big to be complaining about a little burn on your palms, don’t you think?”
That makes him frown even deeper. For such a pretty face, the eyebrows make it quite an expressive canvas. “Miss, a part of helping someone physically also includes helping them emotionally.”
“Oh, sorry, didn’t know falling on the rug gave you a heartache.”
“My pride.” The worker scoffs, joining his hands by the wrist and putting them forward for her to spray on. “It hurt my pride, considering I just ate dust.”
Upon seeing the pained expression on his face, with his eyelids scrunched together and his thick lips pressing on a thin line as he tilts his head to the side and waits for the spray, she sighs, sitting down on the floor with a pop.
“Take off your jacket. We’ll use it as a cloth and it’ll hurt less.”
The stranger doesn’t say a word, but he does take off his jacket. Slim and long arms with little veins popping here and there, seemingly untouched by the fall, splay in front of him after resting the jacket on her lap.
Although it’s an old rag, a jacket that belongs to the nineties and should have stayed there—not like the trends that are coming back, if we don’t count low-rise jeans—, it holds his scent. Clean, fresh, as if he has just gotten out of the shower and kept with him a lime just to reminisce of summer.  
Two sprays have him hissing even when she presses the jacket to the wounded hands, his bottom lip trapped in between his teeth like a shark that caught its prey. She hadn’t realized the music had stopped, rubbing on the wounds with softness before blowing a raspberry into the skin. The little hairs in his arms stood up, actions mirrored by her thanks to a situation way different than the one she found herself in.
“My little jade!” Daeri had a habit of calling her that ever since she gave her a set of jades as a moving-in gift when they started being roommates on freshman year of college. Her image does not differ much from how she looked then when their gazes finally connect. Her dark brown hair rests just underneath her earlobes in a perfectly styled bob, with a pointy and downturned nose and a smile that shows all set of teeth. “Didn’t know you were here already.” She stopped on her tracks, fixing the violet cardigan over her shoulders and sparing a glance to the worker and then, to her. “Is there anything going on?”
She should have said no. That she passed by the worker doing whatever he was thinking he was doing and then, get inside the party. However, much to her surprise, the man that had been caressing Daeri’s face not too long ago—or longer than she imagined, just how long had she been there with the hotel worker?—is not a stranger to her. The absolute opposite, if she’s honest.
Not an ex, but not a why. Not nothing but not everything. That’s what Dohwan was back in the day, when freshman year was rolling around with the heat of summer enticing her to finish the semester quicker as she spent her days with Daeri and Dohwan locked up in his dorm. There’d always be too many people around, reason as to why she’d end up squished next to him while playing videogames, and while the heat was unbearable, it was a little less with him.
Kang Dohwan had been a corner-kiss in a drunken night, a little crush that had burst her heart and mind when he had decided to enroll in nursing school and change majors.
Now, he’s back, and with his hand splaying on the small of Daeri’s back.
He doesn’t call her jade, he calls her by name. With his set of straight teeth shown in a big smile, black hair falling on top of his head in little damp strands. His waist is small as ever, shoulders broader, thighs thicker. It seems like he has started working out and now, she wonders if that’s the reason why Daeri has bulked up, too. Gorgeous as ever.
“What a surprise!” Dohwan boosts, as if he had forgotten that she’s Daeri’s best friend. Does she even call her that anymore in front of people, or is the term too stupid for their age? “Daeri told me she had a surprise for me, but I’d never imagine she’d reunite us.”
Sounds like Daeri had not mentioned her.
She stands up at that moment, trying not to bring back the memories that clash against her eyes of a certain August 3rd night, when an R&B tune accompanied them in a rainy night as they sat in his old car. Daeri had gone on a vacation for the summer and she had come back early from her family house because of the imminent necessity of running away. Dohwan was the only one that was available, three shots into drunkenness and with his hair way shorter than what it is like right now.
“Everything’s okay.” She complies, giving a good glance to how well-suited Dohwan and Daeri are. Daeri has a summer white dress under her clothes that grazes her curves perfectly and lets the rose tattoo on her thigh show. Dohwan doesn’t leave behind the dark colors, exchanging his old college looks for something classier. Instead, she is wearing the same pair of jeans she has gone for in special occasions in the past few years, with her favorite sweater tucked inside one of the hoops, hanging from her shoulder.
The disgusting monster that is envy creeps over her.
It’s not because it is Dohwan. She had let Dohwan behind from the moment he got in that plane and flew to New York City. Daeri cried for him as much as she did, missing their first real friend until they met other people. The problem is that Daeri’s life stays clear of issues. Everything falls into place.
She sells her art pieces online. Daeri works at a museum making live realism drawings.
She has never been able to keep a relationship going. Daeri gets any man she wants and makes him wait for her.
They are both the same age and yet, Daeri is now well-accommodated enough for her to buy the brands she’d gasp about on their shared laptop when they were roommates.
She kept the old laptop.
Daeri bought a new Mac.
“Sorry,” She utters, feeling the presence of someone standing up behind her, dusting his hands on the white t-shirt underneath his jacket. “We kind of got lost in the moment. You know, it’s not always your boyfriend gets a carpet burn.”
Maybe, these things happen to Daeri because she’s not stupid enough to say stuff like that.
The poor worker, whom she is just now thinking about, must have frowned even deeper behind her. She can imagine him shouting that she’s crazy, but screaming doesn’t seem like a verb he’d take up on. Maybe he’d just scoff and roll his eyes, insulting her silently and leaving her friends with a glimmer of a doubt.
Instead, he stands there, eerily silent, watching. She looks at him, his profile, eyes set on Dohwan with an intensity she’d never be able to read even if she tried.
This man, whoever this is, has cards hidden under his sleeve and the smile he gives after. So small that she’s surprised he can even move his face.
“I didn’t know you had somebody. Congratulations!” Dohwan emits, quirking an eyebrow and extending his hand towards…the stranger. “You’ve earned yourself a good one. Our friend over here was the mom of the group since forever. I’m Dohwan, a close friend of hers—”
Close is an understatement. They used to be best friends.
The worker still doesn’t raise his hand to meet Dohwan’s, looking at it before sparing her a glance. She’s not sure if she’s begging with her eyes, but she must be. She has to be.
“Sicheng.” The name could be invented or it could be absolutely real. Nonetheless, he grasps Dohwan’s hand in a tight hold, giving it a squeeze and making it move up and down. “I was just dropping my girl off and accidentally dropped to the floor. Happens.”
She laughs at his words. At Sicheng’s words. Somehow, the name, real or not, fits him like a glove.
Daeri cackles, placing her hands on Dohwan’s shoulder. “Anyone would fall for that face over there. I don’t blame you.” Though, she squints her eyes at her friends. “I blame somebody for not telling me they had a boyfriend.”
“It’s fairly recent.” She waves her hand, looking at Sicheng.
“Quite recent.” He pushes, looking at her with a challenge in his eyes. They glimmer and prod at her when he interlocks his hands behind his back, playing innocent. “How long now? A week?”
“A week.” She completes, and the number makes her feel ridiculous. Who brings her boyfriend of seven days to a getaway with her oldest friends?
“Great.” Daeri adds. “You’re joining us, Sicheng? We have booze and some little snacks that Dohwan’s sister prepared for us.”
Quite like expected, Sicheng shakes his head. “I have to get back to work. I just came to drop her off. Got a bit sidetracked.” Though, he is not all two plus two and metaphors of ‘the sky is blue’. Sicheng can and will surprise if needed. Quite like he does when he licks his lips before pressing them to her cheek, delicate as a flower when he noses the skin and pulls away. “See you tomorrow. Get home safely.”
“Damn it. We’ll get to talk next time then, man.” Dohwan shakes Sicheng’s hand as a goodbye, and the man can only give him a nod.
She’s trying her hardest not to touch the tickle that remains in her skin after such delicate, innocent kiss.
Sicheng hangs the jacket from his shoulder, walking towards the elevator and pressing the button to open it. It takes a few seconds before he enters, turning around and looking up at her. The strands of his pushed back hair fall on those enigmatic eyes and for the first time, she feels like there is someone in this world that can be read with less potence than her.
The doors close, quite like those irises do when looking at anyone.
So, she returns her gaze to her friends, feeling weirdly heated and guilty. Excited, in some way, for being looked at differently—Daeri is the first one to speak, and for someone she looks up to with such honesty, it’s nice to be patted in the back sometimes.
“Quite the eye-candy.”
“Mhm.” She hums, stealing a glance towards Dohwan. “Didn’t know you two were together.” Her teeth press together to let out the fakest: “I couldn’t be happier.”
“Thank you, little jade.” Daeri wraps an arm around her shoulder, smiling with pleasure. “I wish that relationship lasts longer than a week. Let’s see if you can finally make it work, aye? I want us to walk down the aisle together towards our men!”
Right. The band on her finger. Dohwan asked for her hand in marriage.
And she was just the third wheel, the trio that got involved in a matter that should have happened sooner. An almost-kiss in a drunken night. The one person that cannot make love compatible.
A month is a lifetime for her love stories. Daeri knows this.
Must be the part of her mouth that Dohwan did not kiss that spoke when she said: “It will work, I’m certain of it.”
###
FRIDAY: AUGUST 3RD, 2018. 
“Dad doesn’t get it, you know?”
Dohwan has his legs propped on top of her lap, uncomfortably going over the middle of the car seats that separates them. His head is tossed back against the window, as if the rain was washing away his worries. He had picked her up half-drunk, and she had asked him to stop once the rain started pouring. The noodles that he had wished for when he had texted her long forgotten, eyes casted on her as if he’s looking for answers in her frame.
He’s bigger than her in size. Broad shoulders and long legs. His bottom lip takes up a big part of his mouth, pouted with even more force in its red, swollen glow. His eyes twinkle in their dark hues, perhaps from the tears that he always fights back when talking about this situation or because the night has deposited its stars in his gaze.
“He’s always like ‘Hwan, you could have done better than art school. You’re not that good at art, either. Go to med school or something’. He doesn’t get it.” His hand extends then, resting on top of her palm that splayed on top of his knee. “Not quite like you do.”
“…He’s a doctor, not an artist. He can’t judge what you can or cannot do with your art.” She complies, but Dohwan only sighs, leaning forward until he’s seated face to face with her, his legs still on her lap.
“Exactly.” He answers. “…We can always imagine, right? Like, imagine if he saw me for once and he was happy with what he saw.”
Her eyes glide across his face. His strong jawline, big eyes, rounded cheeks. His short black hair and the way his body moves with each breath. He rakes the scent of tequila, but she doesn’t mind.
That’s his favorite drink, after all. She’s had them with him.
“I’m happy with what I see.”
There’s mischief in him, always has, so his right eyebrow lifts up at those words, leaning forward until he is munching on his bottom lip softly. “That sounds awfully wrong for someone this close to me. I could end up kissing you, you know? Three tequila shots do mad shit to me.”
It wouldn’t be mad, she wants to tell him. Instead, she chuckles at his words. “You’d only do it with three tequila shots on you.”
Dohwan smiles, shaking his head in the process. “I’d do it with a glass of water and three slurps on noodles in my stomach, trust me.”
“Dohwan…” She laughs, shaking her head. “Stop playing around.”
“Oh, come on. Friends do it all the time.” Dohwan complies. “Kiss. Kiss attractive friends. You haven’t seen yourself when painting; that concentrated look on your face is fucking hot.”
“Tequila shots talking.”
“…Then make it three tequila shots and a noodle date with me, how about that?”
“Dohwan.” She repeats, trying to stop the pattering of her heart. He says it without meaning much. He isn’t naming it anything other than a kiss between friends. That’s all she’ll get from him.
“Wouldn’t you kiss me?”
“I’d get a taste of the idea first, then consider it.”
Dohwan leans forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth and then, chuckling. “Ideas can’t be tasted, kisses can.”
Though, he doesn’t push any further, moving to the driver’s seat and taking his phone out of his pocket. “I wonder if we can get food delivered to the car…”
That night, the tequila talking for Dohwan sounded sweeter than any romance she ever had.
### 
There were once people shouting his name. Not endless rows or seas, but enough people for him to think he had more of a future than drumming his index fingers against the main desk at the hotel’s reception to introduce his entrance to his coworker. Besides, Uncle Yifeng hates it to bits and pieces.
Usually, Sicheng finds it easier to ignore the thoughts that weighted him down. Sure, the fallout happened a year ago—he should be over it by now, getting used to the lifestyle of waking up earlier, with less energy pumping through his veins and more of a lukewarm reality. It’s not like he was keen of meeting the people in the bars they performed at and tried to get a number or two, or that he enjoyed being watched on stage. He misses the friendship, the companionship, the fact that he could create music with his friends.
“I kicked out the people in room two hundred-seventy. Done.” That’s what he works as right now. Uncle Yifeng calls him a landlord, but he’s just a nicely dressed security guard. As it turns out, the receptionist doesn’t like confrontation, no matter how loud and annoying she can get.
“Oh my God, Sicheng, thank you.” Alex drags like her whole life depends on it, plopping her head on the main desk with the dramatics of an Oscar-winning actress. She fixes the baby hairs slipping apart from her dark bun, blinking furiously. “That old lady literally threatened me with an umbrella so I stepped on my twenty-dollar heels and I told her, respectfully, lady—”
“You didn’t tell her anything.” Sicheng completes, toying with one of the left buttons on his jacket. “Knowing you, Lex, you literally looked her in the eyes and gasped silently.”
Alex doesn’t like being told the truth. In her eyes, she’s one of those boss ladies that likes Beyoncé posts on Instagram and posts selfies without even thinking twice about the outcome.
He’s seen her, twenty selfies before a good one is about as normal as it gets with her.
“Look who’s talking. Dong Sicheng, I’m sure you just popped your head inside the room after knocking and said ‘leave’.”
“A very sturdy ‘leave’ works better than saying nothing.”
He keeps drumming his fingers against the desk, which causes Alex to clasp her hand around his fingers, widening her eyes at him and speaking at an obnoxiously high tone. “If you really were Mr. I Speak The Truth and Nothing Else, you would tell Mr. Yifeng that you’d rather give drum classes than kicking people out of his hotel.”
It was his mom’s idea. She said he needed some peace and quiet from the drama that surfaced one year ago, and Uncle Yifeng was there from the very beginning, filling his mouth with ‘I Told You So’s and shaking his head like his life depended on it.
“Drum classes that no one would pay for.”
“How’d you know?”
“I just know.” Sicheng slips away from her hold, resting his cheek against his hand. “Instead of talking about me, maybe we should talk about something else.”
Resting her hip against the desk, Alex wavers her eyebrows in a mischievous dance. “Unluckily for you, Sicheng, you’re the topic of this night. Someone’s looking for you.”
“Say I’m not here.” Sicheng completes, sparing a look to the elegant curved TV screen behind Alex’s desk.
She places herself right in his line of vision. “Too late. She’s waiting outside for you.”
That smile on her face is no good. “What do you mean she’s waiting outside for me? Who’s she?”
“I don’t know.” Alex shrugs her shoulders in her uniform, way more polished than his. “I just saw a lady going crazy about finding you and she was in a panic. Women supporting women, you know?”
“How about friends supporting friends?”
Alex presses her lips, pushing them up mockingly. “That dangling thing between your legs makes me question if a woman looking for you is something I should protect you from. Men are rats sometimes. What if you did something to her?”
Sicheng widens his eyes. “What part of ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about’ isn’t understandable?”
“You never said that.”
“Some things are implicit.”
“Yeah, I don’t do well with implicit.” She taps her finger against the bell on the desk. “But I’m ringing you in for a dinner break, so go look who’s waiting for you and come back with something great, will you?”
Sharing a tour bus with a bunch of men was less mortifying than working with Alex.
But he does as she says, he stops playing with the button of his jacket and moves over to the entrance door. His family did not inherit this hotel; Uncle Yifeng was over the moon and proud of what he had done with wit and hard work. Luxurious for what it was when it started, the three stars and a half that dangle in front of the hotel are his Uncle’s north, and the reason why he asks Sicheng to work so hard.
The humid night of fall caresses his skin with dampness. He can already feel the pores drying up the slightest when the door closes behind him, leaving him with the soft gush of the cold wind. One look to his left and he sees nobody, one look to his right and he sees a face that he had met just six…five days ago.
With a gray graphic tee tucked inside a pair of baggy black jeans, she looks like a gleaming dot under the moonlight. Though, it could be the twinkle in her eyes when she sees him, rushing to him with a covered canvas propped under her arm. He would have never guessed her to be an artist, but if the yellow paint on her collarbone and the canvas are anything to go by, she seems like it.
He recalls her name, enough for him to breathe it out when she approaches him. That catches her off guard, the wind moving the two strands of hair she has put outside of her ponytail to frame her face.
“Any more lies you want to tell or have you consumed your Pinocchio coupon?” Sicheng encounters. What a greeting, he wants to tell himself, but he was put in a position that he didn’t quite like, neither did he dislike it. It was uncomfortable, at best, a plea of someone who was not entirely happy with how her life turned out.
She free hand spreads on top of her hip. “Geez, how about greeting somebody with a ‘Good night, how are you doing? You seem cold. How long have you been waiting here?’”
Sicheng’s eyes rake down her body. Not that she’s bad looking to the eye—quite the contrary. Every portion of her molds and curves to what he would compare to comfort. A beauty that doesn’t blind, neither does it leave anyone uninterested.
“You don’t look cold.”
“I’m not.” She answers, tilting her chin upward and sighing deeply. “I do have more lies to tell, however.”
Sicheng hums. “Is that why you’re here?”
“You’re my fake boyfriend of a week and I have to go to a dinner party with some friends next week so—”
“Say we broke up.” Sicheng completes, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m…I’m not sure you realize I did you a favor. We’re two strangers and—”
“You already know my name. I know yours.”
“That’s not enough for a relationship.” Sicheng sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your friends will understand. It’s not the first time anyone precipitates with a decision and it ends up turning bad.”
He’s quite knowledgeable in the subject, mind him. He hasn’t made the best decisions these past few years.
“Well, none of my relationships last long and I want to prove them wrong.” She starts, moving closer to him. “Sicheng, I don’t know if you’ve ever gone through this but there’s nothing more frustrating than having people think you follow patterns. Your own friends expect from you to always do the same and never grow, and sure, this growth won’t be real…but is it that bad of me to want my best friend to have something to talk to me about again? Even if it’s our relationships and just having a long-term, serious thing with a guy.” She stops on her tracks, the whistle of the wind the only sound heard between them. “I miss her. I miss us. And I want to have that back. Feel like time didn’t leave me behind.”
Shit. Sicheng should turn on the heels of his old sneakers and just pretend that he’s not seeing her in the rawest form one can find a person in. Talking about their insecurities, longing for a friendship…he knows the feeling all-too-well. The loneliness that comes with leaving all we know behind.
“I’ll pay you.” She continues at his silence, and he raises his eyebrows until there is a crease on his forehead. “I don’t have money but I swear I’ll pay you.”
Judging by the look on her face alone, money is tight for her. Sicheng sighs, deepening his pockets while hiding his hands in them. “Do you have a car?”
“Yes.” She complies, pointing a hand at the hold thing parked not too far away.
“I’m not too fond of driving and I have a music festival I want to go to in January. Three months from now. I could take the bus since it’s just, like, six hours away but that’s boring and I honestly want the road-trip to be comfortable so…” He trails his voice. “Take me to the music festival on January 9th and we’ll be settled. I have an extra ticket. I don’t mind it.”
“…Is that it?”
“Or a million dollars to be Gong Yoo for three months. You decide.” Sicheng retorts softly, trying to keep his features at bay. “We can break up after the festival. Say you caught me texting some chick or something. It’ll be fine.”
She jumps on the sole of her feet, a smile so big it could outshine the full moon if she put her force into it. She lurks for something on her pocket, careful not to drop her canvas as she places a small, wrinkled piece of paper on his hand.
He opens it. It has her number and an address.
“That’s the studio I’m usually in every morning from eight to eleven. I’m an artist. I’ll have a whiteboard ready for when you want to come around and we can outline what we’re going to be pretend to be for when the dinner comes around next week.”
What kind of situation he had gotten himself in?
Sicheng nods once, moving the paper in between his index and middle finger. “I’ll have a say on the story, too. I don’t want to be a sappy, PDA loving boyfriend. I’m not like that.”
“Works for me.” She answers, turning around and looking over her shoulder. “Just…show up, okay?”
He sees her move through the streets with the careful zoom of her car, but she leaves a tingle within him. Perhaps, the look-out of something different in a mundane life.
### 
WEDNESDAY: MAY 1ST, 2019.
There was something special about looking at Yuta.
A different outlook in life was perceived just from the lead singer’s face alone. Ten almost always stood next to him on stage when they performed on bars, shirtless and with just a jacket on, dense eyeliner matching the red-haired singer to give something to look forward to in the band. Yet, as much as Yuta smirked into the microphone and used his powerful vocals to make himself stand out from within any crowd, getting cheers from the drunken youth that could barely understand their lyrics, there was something refreshing about seeing him after practice.
Sicheng sits behind his drums, playing absentmindedly as Yuta lifts the stand of his microphone high in the air like a warrior would do with a sword, only to say:
“I’m the king of the motherfucking world.” He announces, the sleeve of his tank top falling off one shoulder as he quirks one leg on top of one of the guitar amplifiers in the practice room they rent. Mark has left his guitar plugged and Yuta takes care of that. “You’ll understand it when you fall in love, Sicheng. This woman is driving me absolutely crazy and I’m not too good in the head, if I do say so myself.”
Sicheng chuckles, stopping his ministrations on the drums and letting his hands hang in between his thighs as he holds the sticks. “It’s good to see you like that for once. I’ve seen too many girlfriends in the time that I’ve known you.”
“None of them like her.” He uses the microphone stand to poke Sicheng’s nose, which the drummer slaps away. Yuta cackles, running a hand through his red hair. “You know, Sicheng? I feel like this is going to be our year. I can feel it in my bones.”
He can feel it, too. In the happiness, the electricity, the outcome of the new band.
Yes, this will be their year.
###
Art with food is not the most common form of art. Actually, most parents tell their children not to play with their food, even less to make figures with it, but she never really listened to what others had to say about her expression of soul.
Soyeon, a nice old-lady, had been sweet enough to let her use the studio above her pizza place to be able to work on her art. As long as she didn’t touch the leftovers from her restaurant, they were on good terms. Each morning, she relished on the sight that passed through the windows, even when the late-night-partying leftovers that came with Itaewon slipped through the creaks of the glass. Sometimes she’d see a drunk man on the street, other times teenagers sneaking away from the parties. It wasn’t refreshing, but the sun was.
What a pity that winter was just around the corner.
Her knees dug into the wooden flooring, using the crushed, old and rotten peanuts to make the image of a client. Sure, it’s not the most romantic thing in the world to make someone out of peanuts, but it was some kind of talent and it took hours. It was her expertise, the pen and paper being far too mundane for her liking.
On that Tuesday morning, there is a knock on the door. She hums, thinking it must be Soyeon asking her—as per usual—if she had stolen tomatoes from her kitchen. She never has, but that’s the only way Soyeon can slip into a conversation about her daughters’ romantic lives and how she wishes they were more like her. According to her, Soyeon’s daughters took up their mom’s flirty side and they can’t keep anyone under their belt without getting tired of them.
Like most people these days, to be honest.
However, the steps sound different. It’s not the drag of the old soles of the flip flops Soyeon loves to use, but careful steps instead. She looks away from the eyes that she is creating to look at the person that entered, and much to her surprise, Sicheng is there in a different attire of what she usually sees him in.
He looks way better out of that unfitted, antique uniform.
A black t-shirt covers his body, dusted in the logo of a band she doesn’t recognize. It looks like it is either rock or metal, but she’s not certain. His jeans are not ripped, but they cling to his physique way better than his uniform does. He has let his black hair fall on his forehead, different from the pushed-back look he uses when working, and now, he’s standing with the blankest face he can muster.
“Are those…peanuts?”
She swallows, sitting up and resting her hands on her knees. “You don’t have a peanut allergy, do you?”
“No.” Sicheng completes. “But it’s not like I’m going to eat them off the floor.”
There it is, the Sicheng she knows but also doesn’t. One can start to expect things from him at this point. He moves closer, interlocking his hands behind his back when looking at what she is working on from above.
“…I’m gluing them to the canvas, don’t worry. They wouldn’t ever go near your mouth.” She wipes some sweat off her head when she stands up, fixing the ponytail that is falling off her hair. “So, good morning, how are you doing? You look rather thirsty, Sicheng. May I serve you some coffee? I think pleasantries can be exchanged between us without using one liners as the start of our conversations.”
Sicheng sighs, pressing his lips together before closing his eyes tightly. “Good morning.” His voice is sweet when he says those words, soon after jutting a finger to the corner of the room, near the windowsill. “That’s the board you talked about?”
She had prepared today. Post-it notes rest on one of her tables, ready to be plastered on the board. A few markers and she’s ready to learn more about Sicheng.
And vice-versa.
Yikes.
“Indeed,” She moves closer to the board, lending him a black marker. “The white post-it notes are facts about me. The green post-it notes are facts about you. The pink post-it’s, facts about us as a couple.”
“Alright.” Sicheng grabs his pile of post-it notes in green and she does just the same. “You’re an artist.”
“Yes.” She jots that down, including the adjective ‘food’ before artist. “I graduated as an art major a year and a half ago. Been working selling portraits made out of decomposed, yet non-smelly, food for people online. It doesn’t give me big numbers but it makes me happy.”
Sicheng nods. “How did you even think of making portraits out of food?”
“I’m a picky eater and I get bored at dinners.” She completes, shrugging her shoulders. “What about you? Are you a valet?”
“No.” Sicheng replies, writing down on his post-it and stamping it next to hers. “Landlord, or so. I work for my uncle and he calls it a landlord. I basically keep peace around the hotel, make sure people are paying, that they don’t hide in rooms to stay. All that.”
“Cool.” She answers, not knowing what else to say. “Did you go to college?”
“No, I was doing something else when I was supposed to go to college.”
“Landlord-ing?”
That brings a chuckle out of him. The sound is precious, a little bit high for his deep voice. “I was in a band. We broke it off a year ago. Or well, rather, I left the band.”
She steals one of his post-its, writing that down because it is important. Damn amazing, actually. “A band? Were you popular?”
“Around the Seoul area, kind of.”
“What were you called? Were you the singer?”
That makes him stumble in his words, getting rigid upon the questions. He takes a note and writes quickly, pressing it on the board. She reads ‘The Outcast Club’s Drummer. 2019-2021’.
“Too much about me.” Sicheng whispers, clearing his voice. “What about the two people I saw you with? Are they your friends?”
“From college, precisely.” She adds, watching as he puts it on post it notes. “Dohwan was friends with both of us. I met Daeri on my first day of college; she was my roommate and she was absolutely terrified of sleeping with the lights on. I had to keep them on and stay with her just so she could sleep. We all met that year.” Her voice grows dull. “I had a crush on Dohwan then, but—”
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re trying to take your best friend’s man!”
The repulsion in Sicheng’s tone has her groaning. “No, God! I would never! I’m past that crush and I love Daeri. I’m just awfully jealous of how easily things go well for her. For him. For anyone but me.”
She toys with the edge of her post-its, and Sicheng somehow sympathizes with her. He understands it—how the world moves when someone is utterly stuck. He plasters a post-it note about what she just said, before looking at the board.
“Relationship with your parents?” He asks.
“Could be better. Yours?”
“Good.” He answers, putting two more notes on the board. “How would such different people have met?”
She sighs deeply. “I’m not good with literature. Can’t expect me to come up with a story on my own.”
“I asked you for a portrait of my mom made out of flowers. I don’t know, edible flowers. I won’t have my mom made out of peanuts or corn in our story.” Sicheng brings a smile up her features and he has to fight one of his own. “I contacted you online but when I came to pick up the piece, because I was around town, we got to meet. Then, I asked you for coffee.”
She moves her lips to one side. “I’m not a big fan of coffee.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be ice cream. We have to look like adults.”
“We’ll settle for tea.” She conquers. “Then, since I couldn’t get the idea of your face out of my head, I took the number you gave me when you made the order and I texted you.”
Sicheng tilts his head to the side, the tips of his ears growing pink when he continues putting the notes of their story down. “And I answered.”
“Well, no shit, we’re in a relationship.”
A fake one, he’d correct her, but he lets her be.
“You asked me out on a date.” She continues, only to have him frowning.
“Why does it have to be me? You texted and I already invited you to some tea.”
“I’m not the kind to ask out on dates.”
“Neither am I.”
“We coincidentally met somewhere on the street.”
“…That sounds like it’s taken out of Netflix drama.”
“I wish.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, I asked you out on a date and I was an anxious wreck until you answered and we went out on that one date. Then another. Then a third, then you asked me.” She raises a finger in the air. “And you were the one that asked me, it can’t always be me.”
Sicheng laughs at her antics. “Alright, I asked you.”
“Day that we started dating.”
“Two weeks from now. Like October 11th?”
“Sounds fair.” She perks up then. “Oh, when’s your birthday?”
“October 28th.”
“So, tomorrow?”
He hums, not saying anything else. Not that he doesn’t celebrate it with anybody other than his parents, scared of getting too close to anyone anymore. “I think we have a good outline.” He clasps his hands together. “In three months from now, this will be nothing.”
“It sounds tragic when you say it like that.” She turns to the board, sighing deeply. “…Thank you for doing this, Sicheng.”
“Huh, we can only hope it’ll be fun, right?”
“Of course!” She lively says, but at this point, a voice within Sicheng’s head tells him this could also be fucking complicated if he doesn’t control it well.
“I better get going.” He adds, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Text me where I have to be and I’ll see you there…girlfriend.”
“That’s another thing. You’ll have to call me a pet name and vice versa.” She licks her bottom lip. “What about ‘love’?”
The name brings a shiver down his spine and Sicheng has to shake his head, moving over to the door with quick strides. “I’d rather be just Sicheng.” He finalizes, sparing a look over his shoulder to see the confused features on her face. “…See you around.”
### 
Sweetie, her name would be sweetie.
Even when nothing about her is dulcet on first glance, that is the name he thinks about as she stands beside him on the elevator that leads to the spot her friends had invited her to. He can’t believe the power his eyes have, or even the audacity, as he steals a glance to the way she dressed that night. It’s a white and yellow flower-patterned maxi skirt that ends a little above her ankles, a golden long-sleeved shirt with a few lace patterns tucked underneath the skirt. It crumbles a bit thanks to the wrong folding, but grabbing her waist to fix it for her is not what he’s about to do.
He should tell her that she looks nice, instead, he only listens to the commands that she says. “We enters with our hands interlocked and for the love of God, don’t rip Dohwan’s hand when shaking it. He’s a really nice guy and—”
“And a bit pompous, come on.” Sicheng adds, only to have her side-eyeing him. “I know he is your friend, but your friends are high-society copies. I’ve met people like this a hundred times at the hotel.”
“I assume you break all of their hands.”
“I couldn’t even if I tried. I don’t hit the gym as much as your friends do.” He adds, placing his hand in between them and facing his palm upwards for her to grab. She looks at it and he has to sigh. “I promise not to break your hand.”
“I—I know but…” She plays with her hands a bit, chuckling. “It’s just…uh…weird, you know, we don’t really know each other that much and—”
“You’re thinking about what I told you days ago just now? Just when I accepted and I put on cologne and a button down, really?”
She sniffs once, getting closer to him and sensing the scent that radiates from the collar of his white button down. He looks away, only to have her humming.
“It’s a nice cologne, yes. Doesn’t make this situation any less awkward.” Though, she grabs his hand with his, her hold soft while their fingers intertwine. The comfortable touch has him connect his gaze to hers. “For such rough mannerisms with Dohwan, you have very soft hands.”
“You never give up, don’t you?”
“I don’t.” She answers, watching as the elevator doors roll open. “I think that’s my grandest flaw.”
Though, once they step inside, a bass heavy song fills the air, making them stop in their tracks. People bustle around like sardines in a can, dancing far too close with each other in a phase that reads—in neon lights—the name Aphrodite in the very back.
“Oh, this is not…not a restaurant.” She complies, blinking slowly while inspecting around. “…It’s a club.”
Sicheng rests a hand on her back when pushing her forward, using his body to shield her from the dancing drunken bodies. “Not just any club. It’s one of those love clubs people come to hook up with each other.” His breath ghosts on top of her head, looking around for her friends. “Why would they invite us here?”
“This is Dohwan’s kind of scene.” Some things never change and it is only proved when she sees Dohwan standing on top of the bar’s table, a whiskey bottle pouring its content into his well-parted mouth as he smiles into the drink. “I’m supposing he’s the one that invited us.”
“Jadey! My little jade!” Daeri moves through the crowd and wraps her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug, not missing a beat to do the same with Sicheng. “I didn’t think you’d come. You’re here late. Come, come. I will ask for some drinks.”
Daeri leads them to the seats under where Dohwan is standing, and his fiancé pats a hand against his calf.
“Come on, party animal. The invitees have arrived.”
“Guys!” Dohwan beams when he sits down at the edge of the counter, waving a hand to the bartender. “I’m so happy you’re here. I didn’t think you’d be actually able to bring your boyfriend along.”
Sicheng doesn’t like the sound of those words, so he leans back on his seat, parting his legs and keeping his hand on her back. “I can’t find a reason why I wouldn’t come with her.”
“Ooh,” Daeri coos after speaking to the bartender. Sicheng takes this time to order his drink, a simple beer. His companion mimics his motions. “It’s nice to finally hear someone tell you the things you deserve to be told, babe.”
“Yes…” Dohwan trails, quirking the corner of his mouth. “So, Sicheng, you move well through clubs. Any frat parties past left behind you now?”
“Not really. I had a band. We performed in places like these.” Sicheng completes, tossing his head back to take a sip of his beer. “You were in a frat?”
“Yes. Our little friend over here had to come pick me up every once in a while.” Dohwan wraps an arm around her, pressing the sides of their heads together and earning laughter from Daeri.
He doesn’t laugh. There’s something about Dohwan that is far too much for him.
“I’d never get her to dance, though. She was always against it.”
“Oh, come on, you were the life of the party. I would have been the center of attention if I tried.”
Sicheng takes another sip of his beer, looking into her eyes with their hands interlocked over his thigh. “So, what if we danced now? For old times’ sake.”
“A—Are you for real?” She questions, voice soft and Sicheng nods.
“Oh, come on! Yes, yes, yes, this needs to happen!” Daeri claps her hands together, bringing her friend up her feet only to push her towards Sicheng’s hold. “We’ll be over here, you two little lovebirds. Don’t mind us.”
“Sicheng…” She seethes, looking up at him. “I didn’t dance because I am not a good dancer.”
“Who tells you I am?”
He’s moving her patiently through the crowd, as if finding the perfect spot to be away from the two other companions, only to have her scoffing. “Your confidence in doing this. You’re acting like one of those alpha males—”
“Not at all.” Sicheng turns around, taking her forearms and placing her hands on his shoulders. He looks at her through hooded eyes. “You’re just living through Dohwan. Letting everyone shine but you because you’re happy seeing them shine and that’s okay, but for once, you need to have fun and not think about what your friends did and you didn’t.”
“I’ll make a fool of myself.”
His body presses to hers, abdomen to abdomen, as one of his breaths initiates one of her own. “What about it? No one will remember us here. Being anonymous, not getting known, that’s the magic of being normal. Use it to your favor.”
For someone so rigid in her stance of not trying new things, she looks gorgeous from the view Sicheng gets. He’s dancing to the beat of the song, swinging his body from side to side softly, letting his hand rest on her back and guiding her to mimic his motions. She follows through, a little awkwardly and hiding her face in his chest with bawled fists, but he won’t have this.
She doesn’t realize that this friendship she has consists of feeling like less than her friends.
“Don’t hide.” Sicheng lets out, resting his chin on top of her head. “You don’t look as bad as you imagine, actually.”
“Those are some words to tell your girlfriend.”
“Huh, I haven’t had one of those in a while. Grant me a pass.” His fingers thread under her chin, making her look at him as he gives her a smile. “What does one say in this situation?”
“How would I know? I only know what I’d like to hear.”
“Mhm, women.” He answers sarcastically, earning an eye-roll for her and a slap to his chest. “Then, what would you like to hear?”
“That I don’t look like a clown.”
“Don’t know. The red lips give me a bit of Pennywise vibes.” Sicheng jokes around, only to have her chuckling at his words. “I’m joking. You actually look…quite nice under this light.”
“Under this light? God, how long have you gone without a girlfriend?”
That finally makes him laugh and if Sicheng has learned anything this year is not to grant smiles just to anybody. Though, how can one not do it when in a situation like this with her? He twirls her around, their bodies meeting at the middle again before he sighs.
“I’ll learn. Give me time.”
She looks into his eyes for a second longer, responding: “I bought you a gift. For your birthday. It already passed but I hadn’t been able to see you and…” She lurked inside the pocket of her skirt, showing him a tiny, shiny bag. “It’s a rose necklace. I didn’t know what else to give you, but I felt like that reminded me of you.”
“You…You shouldn’t have.” Sicheng whispers, letting go of her body to open the little bag through squinted eyes. When he gets the necklace out, a prickly rose as a pendant has him smiling softly. “It’s beautiful.”
“Someone over here is good looking himself but has too many locks in his exterior.” She announces, interlocking her hands on his nape. “I wonder if getting close means getting pricked, too.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Guys!” Daeri squeals from not too far away, holding her phone up towards where they are, taking pictures with a flash. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Yes, Sicheng will have to get used to her friends, that’s for sure.
### 
The trashcan Sicheng dares call an apartment is quite cozy at times. When he gets home after a long night shift at work and he can finally release himself from the confines of that goddamned uniform, for example. Or albeit, when he can sit down and eat a good burger for dinner, like he should be doing right now as he goes up the set of stairs and holds onto a paper bag with fries, two kinds of sauces and two burgers.
Tonight will be good.
Or so he thought, all memories of a good night crushed when he reaches his floor and sees a woman seated right in front of his door. He recognizes her faintly, a face that he had seen in shows in the past. Perhaps, one of those fans that were in love enough to come to more of their presentations, but he cannot put a name to her. Her bleached blonde hair cascades down her back in dirty strands, standing up and pulling down the edge of her denim jeans when a big smile appears on her features.
“My God! I finally found you!” He doesn’t know how or why. Sicheng doesn’t want to be found, neither does he want to be connected to that band that used to consist of his friends. Not anymore. He tries to move past her, open the door to his apartment and not have to talk about it, but she grasps into his hand. “Come on, we…we have to find the boys. The band’s not the same without you!”
He closes his eyes tightly, pressing his forehead against the door as he tries to slit the key through the doorknob. “Please, let go of me or I’ll have to call the police.”
“What?” Her voice becomes tiny, the fan moving a step back before she shakes her head. “This isn’t you, Sicheng!”
“You don’t know me.” He finalizes, opening the door with quick motions and slipping inside just as he feels her fists bumping against the door.
“Sicheng, we have to talk!”
His heart leaps at his throat. Yuta and Ten were always better with this; they’d give a glance to the fans and they would know where to stand and how to do so. They held some kind of respect towards them, but not with him. Not with the guy who decided to depart from the band that he even called his brothers.
His fingers shake when he puts the bag down and he settles on bed, locking the door behind him and kneeling into the bed to grasp his phone and jot down the one number he keeps on a paper in his pocket.
The phone rings two times before he hears a lively voice.
“Good night, who am I talking to?”
Of course, she believes in those pleasantries and he’d love to grant them to her some other time, but this is not the moment. “T—There’s a fan at my door. It’s Sicheng. A fan of the band I used to be part of is by my door and I’m scared. She doesn’t want to leave me alone.”
He speaks too quickly and he hates the sound of his voice. Even more so, he despises that he has no one to talk to but a fake girlfriend instead.
“Gosh,” He hears her moving on the other end of the call and then, comes sprinting. “Send me the address, I’ll be there in no time. Promise!”
“Please…just…come.”
Sicheng tries to busy himself by eating, toying with the fries and tossing them inside his burger to grab another bite, but his heart is racing. He remembers the good and the bad. The moments in which he had three pair of hands to hold, just like the moments he had to let them go because he could not be trusted anymore. He saw the disappointment in the eyes of the fans and in the people he loved.
Tossing his head back, he looks at the ceiling. He’s not a bad person, that much he knows. He doesn’t want to be good either. Good is stupid. Good is what had him losing everything to his own innocence.
Then, he hears the mingle of voices just outside his door.
He takes careful steps out of his bedroom, heightening his senses by getting closer to the door only to hear her voice rather clearly.
“No, you hear me out. I don’t want my boyfriend to get stalked by some freak. He left the band, yes, get the fuck over it. There’s more to life than being a band’s groupie, come on.”
“How dare you?” The fan seethes and he hears a gasp coming from his fake girlfriend. “You don’t know how important this band was to Sicheng.”
“You don’t know him like I do.” She replies seriously. “Out.” She starts, though her voice gets louder. “Out, I said! I don’t want to see you here!”
“Fine!” The fan shouts back and he starts to hear footsteps at the moment that his mortified expression changes into a grin. She did that, the woman that he is getting to know had been brave enough to shout at a stranger like that just for him.
When he opens the door, he sees her in a new light. Not that she had not ever been casted down by this aurora of angelic bliss, but now, it’s far stronger. Without knowing, he’s wrapping his arms around her shoulders, caging her against his chest like his life depends on it. Her cheek squishes against the fabric of his sweater, hands bawled by his collarbones.
“Thank you.” He mumbles, not measuring his words when he pulls away and looks into her eyes. Surprised doesn’t cut it, she’s more than that. “Uh, I saved you a burger.”
Little does she know that he eats both burgers, but he’ll grant her one just for the sake of it. “O—Okay. Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Better now.” She eyes his face, but he doesn’t want to let her know anymore. Not now. “So…crispy chicken burgers are fine with you?”
She closes the door behind her, clearing her throat. “Well, almost throwing hands at somebody made me hungry, so I’ll take up your offer.”
Eating with her while seated on the kitchen island shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it did.
### 
SATURDAY: MARCH 7th, 2021.
“Guys, guys, guys! It’s time we chill out, alright? We are not like this.”
No matter how far away Mark hold his hands out to separate the singer and the drummer, the rampant fire behind tearful eyes as he struggles against Ten’s hold to reach out for Sicheng. Not that he moves; not closer to Yuta or far away. He’s static, watching as his best friend burns and aches for a woman he thought he loved, as well.
How was he supposed to know that the groupie that appeared backstage from time to time, giving him sweet smiles and caresses to his shoulder, was also doing the same with Yuta? How could he have been so blind that he had not realized that Yuta did not have anything else in his life other than this band? And, of course, the almost two-year-long relationship he has with whom Sicheng thought he had a relationship with.
“Yuta, get the fuck back here!” Ten shouts, grabbing Yuta’s forearm before he could launch his fist towards Sicheng, but he knows him. Yuta’s emotional, but not quite as volatile as one would imagine him to be. But his heartbreaks, stoked one over the other, tumble down in a way that makes him feel life is ending when everything goes wrong.
“I trusted you.” He smacks his hand against his thigh when letting it fall, running his digits through his hair soon after and tugging at the blood red strands. “And you go around and do this?”
“I didn’t know.” Sicheng finally speaks, low and clear, only to have Yuta shaking his head.
“How couldn’t you have known? She was always around. Stop fucking lying.” Yuta turns to look at him, giving him a spoonful of his mind. “We’ve been together for two years, Sicheng!”
“And we’ve been friends since we were kids. How in the world would I have tried to steal your girlfriend?” Sicheng points out, pressing his index finger to his chest with every word he punctuates after. “I didn’t know.”
No one says a thing, and just one look in Yuta’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t believe him. Some skyscrapers fall with the force of the wind, of a mere spring day, and this is that moment. The fallout of what could have been.
“…I’ll make things easier for you.” Sicheng completes, sniffling to stop the tears that threaten to drop from his eyes. Grabbing his drumsticks, he puts them inside his backpack, closing the zipper in one motion. “I won’t be part of the band anymore.”
“Sicheng, come on, don’t take it like that—” Ten tries to get close to him, but Sicheng shakes his head.
“I don’t have any friends here who believe me, so why stay?”
Even someone as talkative as Ten had nothing to say after that.
### 
Dong Sicheng, from up close, could cause chaos, ruckuses, and everything that can be imagined.
It has been a month since their little lie began to unravel, and she’s still surprised that no one has caught up on it. With Daeri’s birthday taking place in her early-Christmas decorated home, he blinds any of the invitees with one of those smiles that she rarely gets to see. He gets asked more questions than her; the new interesting addition to her life that has people wanting to know even the most intricate detail about him.
Good thing that Sicheng doesn’t let anyone know more than the necessary. Including her.
He’s wearing a burgundy sweater that clashes against his slim body elegantly, curved in the abdomen thanks to his position against one of Daeri’s elegant walls. The gray wallpaper makes him stand out and she has to do her best to pretend she’s not ogling him from his side, half-laying on her hip to look at him. His digits are still wrapped around the heated mug that Daeri had served him, filled with hot cocoa, but she’s waiting for the moment those plush lips end up wrapped around the ceramic.
He crosses one leg over the other when their friend-who-is-not-a-friend is gone when his eyes catch something across the room. It seems to get his attention, because the frown on his features soften and the left corner of his lip lifts up.
Sicheng whispers: “Something’s been bothering me.” There is an undertone to his voice that she can’t understand, but she nods at his words. “How long did you and…Dohwan date?”
What the hell?
Her mouth opens and closes several times before shaking her head. “W—We didn’t date, at all!”
“I’m not judging!” Sicheng mumbles back, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m just saying. You mentioned you had a crush on him some other time, and come on, if you were college friends…you probably hooked—”
“My God.” She places a hand on top of his mouth, warm from the drink…or because it’s him. This awfully kissable yet somewhat non-understandable man. “Let me get this straight, you’re asking because…”
“Because…” Sicheng trails after pushing her hand away, but he clasps his digits around her wrist, keeping it in between the two of them. “I can’t ask now? I’m your boyfriend right now, if you don’t recall.”
There’s a whine to his tone, and she has to frown. Why exactly is he pointing this out? “Are you…jealous?”
He shakes her wrist, frowning in the process. “I couldn’t possibly be that.”
“Then, why?”
“Not everything needs an explanation.”
She coos at that. “Means I don’t have to explain myself when it comes to my friend.”
“Oh, come on, he has this kind of confidence to him. As if he thinks you wouldn’t be able to get someone else other than him.” Sicheng reiterates, and if she is not losing her goddamned mind, he just rolled his eyes. “So?”
“So, we didn’t date.” She confesses, pulling her wrist away from him and sighing deeply. “It was just a kiss on the corner of my mouth, you know, he was drunk…he kept offering to kiss me, I couldn’t quite believe it. Nothing else happened. Ever.”
Sicheng remains silent for a few seconds, only to be interrupted by Daeri, whose bun on top of her head shakes with every shouted word she says:
“Time to cut the cake, you guys!”
Though, that only makes her drink her hot cocoa in more of a rush, causing for her mouth to burn at the scalding drink. A hiss escapes her, watched and heard by Sicheng who immediately lowers his gaze to her mouth.
“Are you okay?”
“I just burnt myself!”
Unlike the Sicheng she thinks she is getting to know, he hooks his finger on her chin, looking around the room carefully to make sure the attention isn’t on them before she feels it. His plush lips pressing to the corner of her mouth that she had burnt, softly, so brief and sweet that it was as though she had not felt it. Then, leaving her as confused as he always does, he grabs her hand, interlocks their fingers together and says:
“Let’s go sing happy birthday.”
Happy birthday my ass, she wants to say.
Some things shouldn’t go unfinished, and Sicheng’s kisses seem to be one of them.
### 
He’ll admit it. He’s a nerd about a few things. Music is one of them.
So, when he heard that a limited edition of a pair of drumsticks signed by his favorite drummer were going to be sold at the mall, he opted to wait right outside the store at night. Even when it was closed and December was rolling just around the corner, leaving the dew of the upcoming rain right behind his trail.
She shouldn’t be here, he thinks, as he sits in front of the store with his back perched against the glassed door. Yet, it’s like his fake girlfriend can’t seem to leave him alone for things that she considers matter for him. The jacket she had worn that night is not thick enough for the weather, leaving her as a shivering mess as she brings her knees up to her chest.
“Explain to me.” Her teeth clatter the slightest when speaking, turning to look at him with her cheek squished against her knees. “What’s so important about a pair of drumsticks?”
Sicheng tosses his head back, releasing a smile into the sky as he thinks about that question. It definitely was important, but not as much as it used to be years ago. When releasing a dream, one begins to understand there is more to this world than being what we expect out of ourselves. He takes his phone out of his coat’s pocket, leaving him only with his jacket when he places the garment on top of her shoulders.
She tries to shrug it off, but he clicks his tongue. “You take it off and I won’t wear it.” Sicheng carefully threatens, then, he starts looking through his phone. “And about what you asked for, it started when I was in high school, I guess. I had a friend, Kunhang, who was in drum lessons and I tagged along. Then, when he had to move away for college, he left me his spot in the band. That’s how I got to get closer to the other guys.” In that part of his gallery that he never shows, he has the videos of the performances, the practices, and everything that made him feel alive once.
“..I see.” She whispers, leaning closer to his side and hiding the tip of her fingers under the fabric of his sleeve. The hairs on his arms stand up, but he concentrates on the phone instead. “What are you going to show me?”
He clicks on a video with an ugly black and white filter, where they can hear and see him working on the drums. It’s an old cover from a Japanese band Yuta loved since he was twelve years old, and he’s quite proud of the outcome. It got more than a hundred thousand views on YouTube.
“Whoa…” She coos, every word she says breathed out on the side of his face, making his gaze trail away from the phone to her profile. She’s gorgeous, even from up close. “You look so cool, Sicheng. Why have you stopped doing that?”
The knot on his throat grows bigger and he has to look away, locking his phone and putting it face down on his thigh before sighing. “You won’t look at me the same way if I tell you.”
Her grip doesn’t falter from his sleeve, scoffing at his words. “If you tell me you killed all of your bandmates, I won’t believe a word you say, Sicheng.”
“I didn’t.” Sicheng reiterates, trying to fight back a smile. Then, he turns to look at her, pressing a hand on top of her hidden one. “The lead singer, Yuta, had a girlfriend of two years I knew about but didn’t personally know.” He starts. “…And I coincidentally met a fan, a groupie, whatever it is that you call them, when I was playing in one of our shows. She’d always slip in backstage and we started getting along then. Chaeyoung was like that, could have anyone wrapped around her finger if she wanted to.”
She nods, and Sicheng continues to tell his story.
“So, the moment I tried to introduce my new girlfriend to Yuta and the guys, we both realized we were dating the same woman. He thought I had stolen her from him, instead of thinking that she was cheating on both of us.” The explanation has her eyes widening a fraction of a second before they soften, speaking his name in a low tone. “He didn’t believe me, and I felt like the guys didn’t, as well. I left the band before it could get any worse.”
“God…Sicheng…” She mumbles, placing her chin on top of his shoulders, faces far too close…but that’s the thing about her. She doesn’t realize just how her kindness makes his heart skip a bit.
That’s stupid to say, right? They have a month and some days left together.
“If it works for you, I believe you.” Her eyelashes flutter softly, covered in the humidity of winter.
Nice doesn’t cut it for how great it feels to be told that.
“Yeah…” He pats his hand against hers. “I like the sound of that.”
### 
Her lipstick has disappeared into another dimension. That’s the newsflash.
“I—I’ll be ready in a second, Sicheng. I just…” She keeps flickering through her purse and her makeup bag, to no avail. Where’s her favorite red lipstick? Only the universe knows. Though, give her some credit, it’s damn hard to find anything when there is a handsome man sprawled on her bed face down, leaning his cheek on his forearm and looking at her with a sleepy gaze. He has been waiting for over thirty minutes in that position, after all. “I need my lipstick.”
“I’ll help you look.” Sicheng stands up then, running a hand over his beige shirt and walking over to her vanity. She doesn’t pay much attention to him, lurking through her shelves and her bathroom, taking some extra time there.
When was the last time that she used it?
Though, it takes some looking around inside the bathroom to see that it had fallen on top of her dirty clothes pile. Fucking luck, she tells herself, clasping the tube in between her hands and looking at herself in the mirror, splaying the lipstick as well as she can in the outline of her mouth before filling it in. A few blotches with her finger and taking out the access by patting a napkin to her mouth and she was done. Opening the bathroom door again and turning off the light.
“Found it. I’m ready.” They should have already headed to the museum ‘date’ they were supposed to go to. She was going to be in the exhibition of a professor’s new collection, but that’s far from her worries now that she sees exactly what Sicheng has in his hands and what he’s doing with a smile on his face.
Listen, she’s a single woman. She has been single for a while now. There are things that only a few things can fulfill and reading is one of them. Romance books, perhaps the ones that are a bit steamy, are a nice change of pace for her nonexistent love life. Though, Sicheng seems to have the time of his life as he flickers to the next page, quirking an eyebrow as he coos to himself.
“Sicheng!” She squeals, knowing perfectly well what part of the book she had left it in and judging by the pink blush on his cheeks, he’s reading just that. She launches herself to his lap, trying to clasp the book in her hands only to have it taken away from her hold. “Give me that! That’s private!”
“He wrapped an arm around her hip, pulling her closer to his center, whispering in her ear—”
“Dong Sicheng!” She screams, not caring about the laughter that leaves his lips when she sits on his lap and tries to reach the book that he holds above his head. Her chest presses to his, the breaths of the laughter he leaves caressing her chin when she stands on her knees to be able to reach the book. “Don’t be reading my stuff!”
“It’s just getting to the good part. I didn’t think you’d be the kind to read porn.”
“Read porn?!” She questions, failing on her attempts of reaching the book and smacking her hand against his chest when he starts laughing. “That’s romantic literature, mind you. The fact that they have sex is not the reason why I read it.”
“You highlighted a few phrases here and there.”
“Because they are good quotes.”
“Quotes about a man foreshadowing to sex with a woman.”
“Oh, come on, as if you haven’t had sex.”
Those words make her notice just in what position they are in. One of Sicheng’s hands is next to her leg, both of her thighs straddling his thanks to her attempt to reach for her book. Her chest stands fairly close to his face, his soft breaths mingling with her own. They grow erratic, or it may have been her own breathing.
Sicheng closes the book then, keeping his thumb trapped in the page he was reading. “Uh…” He trails, inspecting her face. “You like these kinds of things?”
“Books like that?”
“No.” He shakes his head dizzily. “Men like these.”
I like this, she wants to tell him. There is nothing more than she’d wish for than to wrap her arms around his shoulders and plant a kiss on his lips, a memory of what could have been in Daeri’s birthday if only they had been braver. Instead, she tilts her head to the side.
“I like some of them. Not all. Some are written too…dominant and I don’t like an alpha male.” She confesses, trying to get off his lap only to feel his hand trapping the back of her left thigh, looking into her eyes when he says:
“Careful.” He whispers, though she knows there is no kind of danger to be ran just by getting off his lap. The touch alone electrifies her, making her press her red lips together.
This catches his attention. She knows when a man is looking at her lips.
Instead of kissing her, however, Sicheng puts the book down and presses a hand to her shoulder. “Don’t forget to bring a jacket with you. Let’s hurry up. It’s getting late.”
She’d rather be late if that meant getting to kiss him for good.
###
Sicheng is a tall wobbling figure in the night as he carries their luggage back to her car. His hair dusts in snowflakes of the remaining memories of December, just when January steps into its first week. The tip of his nose blares a vibrant red, accompanied by a sniffle when he opens the door and tosses the luggage inside.
Only when he is by her side, on this January 8th night, does he finally say something.
“All the rooms were taken up.” Sicheng announces, pressing the button beside his seat to lean it back. She watches him back down slowly, frowning at his words.
“We made a reservation.”
“Well, they forgot about us and the rooms are full.” There is exasperation in his tone. Meanwhile, she’s trying her hardest not to scoff. Sicheng looks up at the ceiling, a pair of glasses that she knows he needs to wear but never does resting on the bridge of his nose. “…And before you say you will drive us to the next motel we can sleep in, let me remind you we are two hours away from one and we’re tired from driving. I won’t let you.”
She clicks her tongue harmoniously. “So, you are trying to tell me we are sleeping in a car?”
“Not how I thought the night was going to go.” Sicheng finally turns to look at her, a twinkle in his eyes when he takes off his glasses and rubs at one of his eyelids. “Listen, I’m sorry. I will find the best hotel I can once we finally get to our destination, but this is as best as it gets. The comfort of your car.”
She sighs, mimicking his actions with the seat and turning to her side, inspecting his profile as he closes his eyes tightly. “Sicheng, you have that face on.”
“What face?”
“The one that tells me you’re not going to sleep feeling bad that we’re sleeping in my car.”
He opens his eyes then, the apples of his cheeks bobbing up with his tight-lipped smile when he turns to look at her. “So, we’re studying faces now.”
“Yours is easy to study.” She complies. “When you’re annoyed, you’re annoyed. When you’re happy, you’re happy. There’s no denying in everything you do.”
“I’ve studied your expressions, too.”
“Mhm.” She hums, frowning deeply. “So, how about this face?”
“The ‘I smelled a fart’ face.”
“Not at all. Unless you want to tell me something.”
Sicheng laughs at her words, reaching for a strand of her hair and playing with it for a second before letting go. “I know I already said it, but I’m really sorry—”
“Say sorry one more time and I’ll kick you out of my car.” She blows on her hands then, rubbing them together before letting out a small cough.
“You’re freezing.” Sicheng points out, sitting up on his seat before looking into her eyes.
“I’m not.”
“I can see you shivering.”
“You’re imagining it?” Her voice wavers the slightest and Sicheng has to roll his eyes. He pushes his weight to one side of the seat, patting his hand on the small spot next to him.
“Come lay here.”
She scoffs at his words. “I won’t fit, genius. You can barely fit there yourself.”
“Then, lay on me.” Sicheng shrugs his shoulders as if it’s the easiest thing to say. It’s tempting, she won’t lie, but the thought alone has the tip of her ears heating up. “Nothing will happen, I promise. You can sit on my lap, lay on my chest. We’ll be fine.”
She looks at him one last time, only to have him raising his hands on each side of his body, as if in defense. Her eyelids flutter shut, passing one thigh and then the other over the middle only to settle down on the small spot that Sicheng had opened up for her.
Surprisingly, she didn���t fit. And that’s not the verb she was imagining.
“See?” She tries not to think about it too much, quirking one leg up and hoisting it over Sicheng’s waist. She leaves the other one resting on the sliver of space left, her hand spreading on his shoulder. “Now, you’re going to have to deal with half my body weight on you.”
Sicheng hums, with his eyes closed and his digits resting on the back of her head. They make quick work on doing circular motions there, slow and meticulous, enough to have her back straightening, more of her skin pressing to him. “Like I said, I don’t mind.”
She doesn’t know what else to say. Instead, she lets her ear press to Sicheng’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Much different from how her heart is going crazy inside her chest.
“Our break-up is coming soon.” She announces, only to hear a new melody to Sicheng’s heart. Now, it rushes and he takes this time to stop his motions on her hair.
“Oh.” He doesn’t say much else at first, swallowing thickly. “S—So, have you thought about how you want it to happen?”
She doesn’t want it to happen, that’s the thing. Even when fake, Sicheng had been giving her—slowly, but surely—the kind of commodity she always expected out of a relationship. There is much more to unravel about each other, but she wouldn’t mind to do it one bit.
“We can always push it back.” She whispers, resting her hand on the one in her hair to try to get him to continue with his movements. He does, and she looks up at him to see his eyes open, but staring at the ceiling. “I…I don’t think…uh…that we should end it right now. Why? What for?”
“Yeah.” Sicheng mumbles, closing his eyes and squishing his cheek to the top of her head. “Two more weeks, how about that?”
She nods, letting her eyes close only to get lost in the feeling of him. The scent of that perfume she had given him on Christmas, too. “Yes, two more weeks sound perfect.”
###
The Outcast Club are right in front of him, and he wishes he could stay stoic. His eyes should not divert towards the newest drummer, whom is neither Kunhang nor himself, or to Ten as he works perfectly on the bass, with his hair sleeked back and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. Mark is as reserved as he gets on stage, all smiles and headbangs when he lets his fingers play the solo of their newest song.
The main focus goes to Yuta, leaning over the crowd of the festival and singing their songs on top of his lungs. He remembers when Yuta wrote this track; he was a little bit whiskey drunk, with his head tossed back as he made mistakes on Mark’s oldest acoustic guitar. He could barely scribble down the notes, but even when Sicheng coached him to go to sleep, he said he’d lose the melody. The inspiration.
Maybe, he wasn’t meant to be part of the band from the beginning. He didn’t have that mindset when it came to music.
His companion grounds him when she shouts at the top of her lungs, bringing a fist up and smiling through her set of red lips. He has to look at her, mostly because she holds some kind of hope. For him to know that he has not remained static all these years; there is somebody that spends time with him without thinking of anything else. Not his past, not what he could have been, what he should be…
“Come on, Sicheng!” She tells him, grabbing his wrists and turning him to her. He has to smile at her antics, at the dense eyeliner she had put on and the brightness of her beam. Even when outside it’s cold, the concert remains heated with the amount of people there. “Jump!”
And he does, mostly because he wants to bring good memories to something that he finds oh-so-bittersweet, but with each jump he matches to her own, the freer he feels. He doesn’t realize that he grabs onto her waist or that he pulls her closer. That her hands, as per usual, rest on his chest, but this time around, she doesn’t want to ball the fabric or give him a smack for saying something that she can’t argue about.
Instead, she looks at him with an expectation that steals his breath. This, this is what life wanted to bring him back with such heartbreak. Freedom, understanding, whatever this blossoming feeling in his chest is. He leans his lips down then, waiting for everything and nothing at the same time, but when he feels her lips clashing against his, he knows luck has struck on his side.
She tastes like the strawberry fuzzy drink she has in her left hand and her lips, much like her personality, want to take everything that surrounds her. Perhaps a bit selfish, but he grants it. His mouth molds against hers, trying his hardest to keep himself controlled when he feels her sigh against his mouth. As if she waited.
God, he had been waiting for this.
When she pulls away, she gives him the grandest smile he had seen, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. That’s when he returns the grin, feeling his skin heat up when he grants another look to the stage.
Yuta is by the stage, squinting his eyes at the two figures and that’s the moment Sicheng knows he was seen. He keeps his arm wrapped around her for leverage, but what comes next surprises him. The lead singer gives a tight-lipped smile, a bit lazy on his face, when he picks up his microphone and speaks into it.
“Let’s have a great night, will we? Remembering the good old times and the good ones that are to come. Every moment is valuable in our lives, no matter how it ended.”
He has to rest his head on her shoulder, not fighting back the happiness that bursts from within him.
Yuta may not hate him as much as he thought he did.
### 
Pick your poison. Never let it be a man.
Besides, it’s not like Daeri picked the best bridesmaid dress for her when her wedding came around. She looks like she’s about to pick strawberries from a field in the old west, with puffy blue sleeves and an uncomfortable waist that has her sighing in a few more times than necessary. Two more weeks, Sicheng promised, and now, he’s not here to accompany her to the grandest date of their arrangement.
He missed the wedding ceremony and now, she’s dipping her tongue in expensive wine in hopes of forgetting that he seemingly won’t come to the party, either. Dohwan keeps looking at his wife as if she’s the most beautiful woman in the world—and she is, obviously, Daeri couldn’t look more gorgeous even with tear-stained cheeks—but she needs to have less romance around her for her not to feel so bitter about Sicheng breaking a promise.
Wine can’t do magic tricks now, can it?
Dejun, one of the groomsmen, slips by her side at that moment, with an awkward smile on his pointy features and a movement of his eyebrows. “Uh, hi! Uh…would you like to have a dance with me?”
She’d like to say yes. Dejun is handsome; she doesn’t know him enough, but she’s sure he knows enough about her to be aware that she’s in a three-months-long relationship. Or, she was. Is it over? Was Sicheng too much of a coward after kissing her all the way home from the trip, like his life depended on it, so he decided to dip?
“Sorry…I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” She has to be stupid, but she takes that moment as an excuse to take a sip of her glass. Dejun nods, sputtering a set of apologies before he goes somewhere else.
And there she is, once again alone, walking over to the group of women that roam around in order to grab the bride’s bouquet.
She is not sure if she wants to get married. The idea of having someone glowing at just one look of her face is inviting, but she wants something deeper. A friend, someone to believe in, perhaps. She gets to the far back, putting her glass down and watching as Daeri smiles with all her might as she swings the bouquet in her hands, throwing it to the group of women.
None of them grab it, but someone behind her does.
She looks around to catch a glimpse of the lucky lady, but someone else holds the bouquet in his hands. Sicheng stands there, wearing a suit that is not his size at all—perhaps, lent from his uncle’s wardrobe—, but still making it work as he walks over to her, one feet after the other in a dancing waltz when he finally approaches her.
“Sorry for being two weeks late.” Sicheng announces, earning a few coos from the people around them as he grants her the bouquet in between his hold. “I had some things to sort out.”
“Some things?” She whisper-yells, trying her hardest not to give doll-eyes to the people around her to see if they know what she is saying. She puts a smile on her face, but it’s way different to what she is about to tell Sicheng. “You went MIA for two weeks, what could have taken you so long?”
He sighs deeply, looking for something on the pocket inside his vest. When he takes it out, she sees a small marked canvas, the size of her palm when he puts it on her free hand. Made out of peanuts are a few words that have her battling back tears as well as laughing at Sicheng’s uniqueness.
I want you to be the future of this forgotten man.
And then, a jade drawn to its side. Awfully done, as well.
“I’m not that good at drawing, but I really tried. It took me longer than I expected and I really didn’t want to show up without this but—”
“You have to be stupid.” She shakes her head, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to press a soft kiss to his lips. He grows rigid, cheeks heated up when she pulls away only to have her gasping. “Oh, forgot you didn’t want to be the PDA boyfriend.”
“…I’ll have to get used to it.” Sicheng releases as a soft breath between them, taking her hand and giving it a run with his thumb. “Let’s go sit down so we can talk about these past two weeks.”
“And the ones to come.”
He smiles at her words. “Plenty of those, if we are lucky.”
###
Waking up to the sound of Sicheng playing the drums in their shared apartment would be annoying to some, but to her, it’s refreshing.
She lets herself roll to his side of the bed, smiling in glee with her eyes closed. He’s still insecure with his hits, trying not to make too much noise or get lost in the moment, but he’s getting there. Seven months into the relationship and she can say something…
Sicheng is not his past. He’s not his future. He’s not the man when he’s alone or the one he’s with her. He’s a mixture of the art of his smile, the twinkle in his eyes, the insecurity in his mind but the selflessness that characterizes him.
Sicheng is time, and she’d be lucky to spend her entire life with him.
36 notes · View notes
multiphandomunnies · 2 days
Text
exo
Tumblr media
reactions
idol gf has a wardrobe malfunction
*T* gf has self harm scars
bf decked out in merch at fansign
Mc makes fun of idol gf
how would exo cuddle
*T* gf comes out as F to M
college au
you send an inappropriate photo as they’re at practice
imagines
xiumin
winters promise
boyfriend xiumin!
half asleep
single dad!
falling in love
suho
lay
bf! lay
baekhyun
blushing
pantone 18-1018
chen
christmas special
chanyeol
falling prolouge
snapdragon
bf! chanyeol
instagram
kyungsoo
morning kisses
kai
(*M*) first time
tulip
bf! kai
sehun
orchid
jealous
luhan
don’t wait
tao
unexpected
1 note · View note
taeil-and-themoon · 1 year
Text
INTRODUCING MON
hello my name is mon it's nice to meet you i hope you enjoy you're time here, this what you'll need to know: I'm a trans gay man who write's for gay men and non women love non woman ONLY if you are a: straight women or a women who loves other women please do not continue reading my work i have nothing against you it's just that my story's are not for you.
next: SOME of my story's contain smut DO NOT READ THEM IF YOU ARE UNDER 18Y/O. if they do have smut their will be a warning which leads into
what dose spice mean?: spice = smut if none then there will be no smut. if mild there will be touching, teasing, ect but no penetration. if hot there will be penetration, touching, sucking, ect.
what dose water mean?: water = angst if none there will be no angst. if 2cups there will be sad aspects such as characters crying, heartbreak, hurt-comfort ect. if 4cups there will be extreme angst such as death, hate against a character resulting in depression, su!c!dal thoughts/actions, feelings of worthlessness petrayed by the character, depression, su!c!de, ect
things I will write: kpop, cpop, mdzs, kdrama, cdrama, thaidrama. if you are requesting spice put the level you want and the plot as while as the idol/ character/actor you want. I will only write smut of people over the age of 18, i will only write consensual smut. if you want water in your recipe put how many cups and what you want included I will write angst of people under 18 as long as it does not also have spice. Lots of time my work will be out of character
things I will not write: smut of people under 18 or newly 18, wlw, straight relationships, non consent, incest, Urophilia, beastiality, Public Sex, Interrogation Play, Impact Play, Humiliation kink, Gerontophilia, Mysophilia, Formicophiliacs, Paraphilic infantilism, Coprophilia. these things make me uncomfortable and/or I do not know how to portray them since I do not relate with them
groups I write: nct (all units, 22-25), txt, ateez, elast, onlyoneof, dpr (just gonna put them in groups), the rose, ect.
soloists: bloo, holland, taemin, woodz, eric nam, ect.
p.s: my grammar is horrible
9 notes · View notes
daniistopg · 1 year
Text
Holy shi-
I mean, it's not a lot, but it'll make me happy. I just got like, 5-6 likes on my new post, like WOAHHHHHH. I'm not even like, remotely even known on any platform, except Tiktok, Twitter (kinda), Pinterest, and Wattpad💀 I'm sweating rn man. Because....I don't know why.
Also, I do art.
Btw, I do write kpop/jpop/cpop/kdrama/jdrama/cdrama ffs and images, but only fluff, or angst💀
If you want, I will make a list talking about my ff ratio+deez nuts stuff.
Bye <33333 (It's pitch black in my room rn)
6 notes · View notes
ultramanyaoi · 3 months
Text
shuuma would fit sooo many of the cpop songs i like but tbh thats just because they have such taiwanese tragic couple energy. the longing the fateful childhood the angst!!!
0 notes
inkk-splatters · 8 months
Text
there are two sides of Cpop, OVERLY WHOLESOME LOVE SONG and THE LONELINESS AND ANGST OF AN ENTIRE GENERATION and they suck equally.
0 notes
snailsos · 2 years
Note
Thanks for the music recs! 留一天與你喘息 - 陳卓賢 and 不如- 泰海清 sound like songs my neighbors would sing during karaoke HAHAHAHA
不如 - It’s so cool how it tells a story with the lyrics!! The rhymes and rhythm flow so smoothly as well. Both songs sound like a goodbye, they just pull you into that sad but accepting vibe LMAO
留一天與你喘息 - (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) the lyrics?? the emotion in the singer’s voice is so palpable, it sounds like it could be the bg music of a terribly sad scene in a drama!
speaking of palpable emotion, Ado covered Crime and Punishment and it s l a p s, the growls/screams are so good!!
RIGHT!! There is something very understated about how c-pop makes for a VERY karaoke-friendly genre honestly!! And I swear to god there's just something about the genre that makes the ✨angst✨ cut deeper than normal... Like rubbing salt directly into a wound almost HAHA I've been writing to a lot of cpop lately that's for sure; fuels angst very well (or just general existential crisis vibes... i don't really write angst)
Holy crap... Ado's cover is INSANE. BLOWN OUT OF THE PARK HOLY CRAP... I'm obsessed with this. Officially obsessed with this... Ado has never disappointed, ever...
In a complete 180 in vibes, I will recommend Girls' Generation's FOREVER 1 LMAO It's so cute and makes me feel so happy and summery :'))
0 notes
koalataeil · 4 years
Text
Stone
Tumblr media
Pairing: fiance!Kun x gender neutral!Reader
Words: 980
Genre: just angst and sadness
Summary: based on the song Stone by Losing Teeth. Kun is still adjusting to you being gone, but he visits you every week, telling you everything he can.
Kun could never sleep with the lights on. Pure darkness was the most comforting for him as he drifted off. That was until he met you. You had a bad habit of sleeping with the TV on or while watching videos on your phone. He adjusted to your habits and preferences quickly as he loved what made you, you. Even if he had to lose sleep for a week, he was content, especially with your body so close to his, radiating a comforting heat in the bitter winter nights.
He got more and more used to your presence in his bed, and he would give up everything to keep you in bed with him. But reality would always remind him that it was impossible at the sound of your alarm early in the mornings. Despite this, Kun always begged you to stay, to call into work to spend the entire day with him. No matter how much he begged, you could somehow resist his whining voice and get ready for work, even though you also wanted nothing more than to spend the day cuddling him and occasionally drifting off into a nap.
/\/\/\/
Kun smiles sadly at the memories. “I can’t sleep without the TV on now because of you.” The wind blew through his hair, chilling his body. “I sleep with the porch light on just in case you come back home.” His voice breaks at the end of the sentence as his eyes sting.
/\/\/\/
When you moved in with Kun, you had fewer clothes than he originally thought. He’d made sure to make as much room in his closet as possible for you. Once you unpacked, however, the closet was almost half empty still. “I thought you had more clothes,” he’d laugh softly, embarrassed for making so much room.
“I decided to donate a lot of my clothes. Plus now I can wear your clothes,” you’d reply playfully, grabbing one of Kun’s older hoodies and slipping it on over your shirt. “Much better than my clothes.”
Kun felt his heart melt as he watched you finish unpacking, his sweatshirt hanging loosely over you. He’d think about how lucky he was to be with you, such a perfect person. “You’re so cute,” he’d comment, giving you a tight back hug.
/\/\/\/
“I can’t get rid of your clothes. They still smell like you,” Kun admitted, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can only really sleep while hugging one of your sweaters.” Kun’s voice broke as he sobbed into his hands. He had no idea he had these tears still in him. Especially from all the crying he’d been doing lately.
“Baby, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you like I promised. I miss you so much.” Kun wiped at stray tears. “Come back and warm me up. It’s so cold without you here.” As if on cue, the wind ripped through Kun’s coat, making the hair on his body stand up straight. His nose ran from the tears and cold, and he messily wiped the snot away.
Kun’s fingers lightly touched at the flowers he’d placed on the ground when he got there. Brand new. But they too would grow old and be replaced next week. Especially with the weather.
“God knows I miss you. I’m sure he told you.” Kun whispered. “If you hear this and you’re sad, let him hold you. Just like you used to hold me.” Kun shivered, holding himself to keep his body heat in.
/\/\/\/
You always knew exactly what he needed no matter what was going on in his life. Whenever he had a bad day at work or just wasn’t feeling well, your touch always calmed him down. You’d have a tight grasp on him as you held him closer to your body. You’d occasionally even sing softly if it was a really bad day. And nothing calmed him down more than you. Even after trying different medications or practices his therapist told him to try. His therapist even warned him not to become too dependent on you, but it was easier said than done. But now that you were gone, ripped away from him, Kun has to figure out how to calm himself down. How to live without you.
/\/\/\/
“I didn’t know if I should bury you with your engagement ring or if I should keep it. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make.” Kun admitted, his hands shaking from the freezing temperature and the mix of emotions running through his body. “The ring would be in the wrong place if it wasn’t on your finger though,” he started to absentmindedly play with his own ring finger, void of the ring you had been preparing for your wedding day in a few months.
“At the end of the day, you’ve got a diamond and I’ve got a stone,” Kun stared at the dirt in front of him. It wouldn’t be covered by grass for at least a couple more months when spring comes and the weather becomes nicer.
“I’ll be back again next week,” Kun promised after ten minutes of silence. “I’ve got plenty more to say.” He moved the flowers more to the center of the dirt plot before he placed his hand on the top of your gravestone. The stone chilled his hand immediately, but he refused to pull away.
He tried to swallow away the tears threatening to spill over. “I’m more afraid to live than I am to die, Y/N. But I know you want me to pull through, so I’m going to keep trying for you.” Kun pocketed his hands, trying to warm them up as he stood. He looked over your gravestone and the dirt for a moment before he turned and walked to his parked car, his eyes burning as he released the tears that had been building inside.
80 notes · View notes
catchlalune · 4 years
Text
Tape 124: Jingshen
In part 1 of my series of wips I’ll never finish is the whole reason I made this blog! I started this fic as something that I wanted all my fics on this particular blog to encapsulate. I know this isn’t the style I work in now but I really wanted to go for a style that was really more fantasy. I thought there wouldn’t be a better day to release this than on my birthday so here we go! I also really want to thank @sichengforthewinwin for the fanart she made which was so sweet and amazing! Please keep in mind it is not finished, it was about 85% done and if you’d like to know how I was going to end it feel free to message me! 
Pairing: Reader x Luhan
Warnings: Angst, gore (poor kitty dies), supernatural themes\
Word count: 4k (4,042)
Luhan is it you watching this? If you’re watching this then you know that I am dead. At the time that I’m recording this I don’t know the reason why, but I know that I will die soon. You always told me that even though I was psychic and could see the future, I should live in the present. I’m trying to you know? Anyways, I wanted to record this because I’m not very good at saying that I love you and I want you to know that I love you very much - I just can’t say it. I want to; I want to so bad that it hurts, but every time I muster up the courage I get so tongue tied that I can’t let it out...but that’s not the point of this tape. I want to tell you about my feelings for you since the first day we met, is it too much? If it is you don’t need to watch it, but whether you do or don’t I figure someone should know. My therapist said this is a good way to organize my thoughts and feelings so I trust her. Right now as I start this it’s only Day 78, let’s try to make it to Day 365 okay?
Video 1:
I remember like it was yesterday because it was so cold and the thunder was raging on from the moment I woke up that morning. There was a flood warning on the TV channels and radio stations, and they advised everyone to stay in their houses. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard pounding on my door. It was so loud it startled Luna out of her sleep. You remember Luna, right? The all black cat with purple eyes. You never believed they were purple and we would always argue over the color. Anyway, when I opened the door you stood there with hair that was pink like cotton candy. I remember thinking how strange it was, why would someone want to dye their hair pink? And of all the pink colors why that pink? Then I realized that your hair was sticking to your forehead and dripping. Not just your hair but your clothing as well, a dark brown trench coat, light wash jeans with rips in them, and a white shirt underneath all drenched down to the matching brown boots you wore. I was so shocked I stepped back and you smiled sheepishly. I think you thought I wasn’t going to answer the door for you which I probably shouldn’t have. But there you were in front of me drenched but beautiful and your lips were moving before I had time to contemplate anything else.
“Are you the 精神的 ?” I remember you asking me in such a soft voice that I had to really think about it. But you continued on thinking I couldn’t understand you.
“Psychic? Are you psychic?” Your English startled me, I wasn’t used to anyone under thirty years old coming to speak to me and most of them didn’t know much English. I couldn’t do much but nod my head. 
“I want to ask you a question.” You spoke to me in earnest and I had forgotten that you were drenched from head to toe and still standing out in the downpour on my doorstep. 
“P-Please come in, I’ll get you a towel.” I remember stepping to the side so you could come in and I heard the squish of your socks in your boots. “I’ll bring you clothes too.” I said before walking down the hall, and all I heard in return was a quiet thank you.
After you were dried off and our bellies were full of oolong tea you decided to tell me why you had come. I had already suspected it was due to your career since there was no ring on your finger and if it was familial issues why come to a psychic who had no real backing but her word? That day you talked so long that the beat of the raindrops on my roof seemed to blend in with your soft words. Soft and gentle but not lacking in appeal, your voice is so silvery that when I first heard it and I mean really heard it I felt a warmth in my chest that sat there and bloomed as you went more in depth about your troubles. Honestly I don’t believe that you ever needed me, I think you just needed someone to talk to that would give you advice and I know you realized this halfway through our conversation when your eyes brightened but I am very glad that you came back to me. Do you remember what I said to you the first day we met? I remember the solemn expression when I said those words to you.
“In the future I see you losing someone you hold dear of unnatural causes. There will be no warning, they will simply be there and then gone like the wind.” 
If only I had known. 
Video 2: 
The second day we met was a week after our first encounter and you came to me with the clothes you borrowed washed but smelling so much like you they made my knees weak. You had also brought Gong Bao Chicken, the smell of the roasted peanuts and the sauce made my stomach growl and you laughed at my bashful expression. Our meal was full of soft stifled giggles, shy glances, and repressed smiles. I thought you would leave after we finished but to my surprise you stayed even after the table was cleared and the tea was long gone. You must have noticed my confusion because you looked at me and smiled so brightly my heart thrummed in my chest. 
“I left without thanking you the last time.” You stood so abruptly I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. But you bowed a perfect ninety degree angle and it made me smile. 
“There is no need to thank me. You came for a psychic and I did my job.” When straightening you had a slight frown on your face and I wondered what I had said that was so wrong to you. 
“You did more than what I asked of you. You listened to me even though that was not in your job description and that is what I want to thank you for.” Your voice wavered and there was a light pink dusted upon your cheeks that was almost the color of your hair. I remember thinking was that all?
“There’s no need to thank me. I like helping people, even if they are strange men that bang on my door at six in the morning while a flood warning is flashing on the tv screen and they scare my cat.” It seemed Luna was listening because the moment I mentioned her she brushed up against your legs and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so hard. I wasn’t sure if it was what I said or the way Luna nuzzled into you or even the fact that the situation was a bit ridiculous. 
That day you asked me so many questions about my powers, how different psychic’s could help, when you could tell if they were fake or not, did I have any ties to spirits or witches or anything magical. I remember seeing the stars in your eyes as I answered every question, you listened so much more attentively than I remember anyone ever listening to me. In the middle of my explanation about crystal balls I raised my arm to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and I saw the look in your eyes when you saw the tattooed sigil on my arm. You wanted to ask about it but I’m grateful that you decided to leave it up to me to decide if you were ready to hear the explanation or not.  
Luna curled up on your lap as soon as you sat down and she was fast asleep as the sun dwindled on the horizon, it was one of the most beautiful sunsets I got to watch with you in perfect comfortable silence. The only sounds being Luna’s soft purrs, the wind chimes hanging over my doorstep, and the train in the distance. I don’t know when I closed my eyes or when I laid my head on the table or when I drifted to sleep but I awoke with the blanket I kept on the couch draped around my shoulders and Luna licking my hand.
How long had you stayed that night? Did you watch over me?
Video 3:
The next time we met there was no intention from either of us. Of course I had a strong gut feeling that I would see you that day but it wasn’t my intention. I was content with the cute but timid cotton candy haired man that covered me in a blanket and told me his life story over tea that I got to meet. It had been nearly three months and I figured you’d forgotten who I was, but that gut feeling was spot on. You ran right into me and I almost didn’t recognize you because your hair was a pretty bleached blond color, you were so frazzled I don’t think you realized it was me that you ran into. The train whistled and that was the signal to get on before you had to wait an hour for the next one. I was on my way out of Beijing and I was sure that you had just gotten off the train into Beijing but then you quickly bowed and got on my train. I didn’t want it to seem like I was following so I went in a different car but again there you were not even three seats down from me with a pretty girl on your arm. She laughed at things you said that weren’t funny and I could tell that by the look in your eyes you weren’t comfortable with her. I had to hold my contempt for her back as you looked at me and smiled as if you’d found everything that was right in the universe. You quickly switched your seat to the one next to me and the feeling of relief that you felt washed over me too. 
For a while all we did was watch the trees pass by and enjoy the presence of one another, but then you dozed off on my shoulder. At first I was going to shake you awake but then I looked down at your bleached head bobbing and a warm feeling that started in my chest bloomed all over. So instead I tried to preoccupy myself with looking out the window again but as soon as I looked up I saw the woman that was flirting with you earlier staring intently at me with what I could only call envy, it felt good to know that this beautiful woman that was probably sought after by many men and women alike was looking at me like that. 
It was another thirty minutes before the train stopped at our destination and I gently shook you, you woke up instantly but you were groggy and blinked up at me with the most innocent expression. What kind of grown man makes that expression to a woman he barely knows unintentionally? Were you trying to make my heart explode? 
We got up and said our goodbyes on the train tracks with the pretty woman from before stuck to your side. You didn’t seem to notice her even when you turned and walked away dragging your briefcase with you. It probably wasn’t as funny as I thought it was giggling to myself and smiling so wide some people looked at me funny. 
Should I be ashamed of feeling that way? I always wanted to say it was because you didn’t really want to give her the time of day and she clearly didn’t care about what you wanted unless it was her. Maybe I’m being a bit much? It’s not like me to get so worked up but I hadn’t even formally met the woman and she already was proving to be a threat to me. Not because you liked her but because she liked you and she was entitled and always got what she wanted.
How do I know?
Because I’m a psychic.
Video 27: 
I'll remember this day for the rest of my life and even after. This was the day that Luna got lost, you remember that right? It was also the day my premonitions started.
 It was raining almost as hard as the day we first met-all our really important dates seem to be on rainy days, I wonder if we were ever to get married if it would also rain-and I was frantic. You almost hit me with your car, you got out to yell not even realizing it was me because this time I was drenched in nothing but my house clothes with no shoes or even a jacket over my shoulders. I was about two blocks away from my house on a quiet side street and if I had mind to I would've wondered why you drove your car down it. When you got out the car you looked at me through the pelting rain and instantly pulled me into a hug.. 
You were so warm and I felt so small in your arms. I remember you taking your trench coat off and putting it around me as if it could shelter me from the rain that was already seeping into my clothes and skin. You took me by surprise when you picked me up and sat me in the passenger seat of your car. You laid a warm kiss on my forehead and I was confused because you seemed so timid to me all other times I didn't think you really cared about my well being, or you did but just in a friendly sort of way. It was a short drive to my house not even three minutes long, you carried me inside sat me down in my bathroom and drew me a bath with ginger salts all without so much as a word. I don't remember when I started crying, if it was when I was out in the rain, when you embraced me, when you sat me in the car or even when you helped me into the bath. I was grateful for your gentleness and chastity as you turned when I started to shed my clothing.
 If it weren't for the strange but cute man with the pink hair which was bleach blond but now brown that shared his story with me whom I came to care deeply about I don't know where I would be or if I would even be alive right now. I wish I could thank you everyday for the bath and the heated towels and the warm tea that you made. Or for the company and compassion you showed as I cried on your shoulder with a hand clutched to my chest. You didn't show any pity or disgust but sympathy and I swear it was the tenderness with which you tucked me into my bed and promised me that you always be there for me that I swore I would love you until my last breath. I swore to myself that I would love you and hold you dear to my heart until my dying day. And I have not for a second had a thought of breaking this promise to myself. 
That night I had a dream that I was doing a math problem and when I finally finished the answer was a picture of Luna with x’s over her eyes and throat. When I awoke kicking and screaming and crying you didn’t seem the least bit surprised, you simply held me and again let me soak your shirt with tears. You started to sing to me some time after that and it was so beautiful. Your voice soothed my pain with every last intonation. I was in and out of consciousness the entire night and every single time I awoke you were there to offer solace and wipe at my tears with your thumbs. The next morning I awoke to the scent of ginger tea and bāozi. Padding into the kitchen I could tell by the way they looked that the steamed buns were stuffed with something sweet. I thanked you as you handed me a cup of hot tea and pulled a chair out for me to sit in just so you could push it in for me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about all the nightmares I had but I knew that you knew and I suppose I was okay with that. 
Video 38: 
The day that Luna returned to us was dark and gloomy as most days we met and the clouds were swollen with water that they were more than willing to shed. You’d spent every night with me since Luna got lost and I was just starting to get over the pain of losing my best friend. There was a strong wind and it made my wind chimes rattle against the door, it was so forceful that you thought someone was knocking adamantly so you went to answer it. I will never forget the look that was a mixture of fear, anguish, and confusion when you turned to look back at me with a box no larger than one made for shoes that was stained black and you had the black substance all over your hands and you quickly flung the box away from your body to slam the door shut so hard the walls shook and some of my talismans fell. 
I stood up to cross the room despite your many protests because you looked so much like a deer caught in headlights and I wanted so badly to understand and ease the pain. Little did I know that the black substance on you wasn’t really black but was a deep red, looking at you with your hands covered in it made my heart leap into my throat. I knew opening the door despite your protests would only bring me immense pain but I knew it was Luna and I knew I needed to face this. I was not ready for what I saw. 
The box was soaked in blood and Luna’s corpse was in a heap exposed from the force with which you flung it away. There was so much blood and I know I screamed and you tried to pull me back into my house, back into your arms for shelter but I felt the stickiness of her blood on your hands as you grabbed my arms and I panicked. Who would do such a thing? I remembered thinking over and over again as I hit the ground and foolishly crawled to her. I wanted to pick her up but there were maggots all over her and I choked at the smell. You again tried to pull me into your arms but I pushed at you so you sat next to me and let me sob on my porch in the middle of the day with the rain pouring down on us. It was so hard and thick it came down like a white sheet and I couldn’t see anything else in front of me except for Luna. It seemed this was my punishment for something I did in a past life because all I could do was stare at her as the maggots wormed their way through her once thick and shiny black fur that was now thin and greyish as well as the hole in her neck. Someone had intentionally stolen my cat and returned her to me dead and decaying. 
Video 52;
This was the day we had our first official date, do you remember? Well I suppose it wasn’t really official because when I got to the fancy restaurant there you stood with that pretty woman on your arm wearing a dazzling red dress that made me feel so boring in my blue one with matching suede shoes, she even curled her hair loosely and drew on pretty eyeliner to enhance her monolids and cherry red lip gloss- not lipstick- to bring out the paleness of her face; but it still made me feel giddy and my heart soared because I felt as if we became distant lately.
 In reality it seemed as though I was third wheeling as you and the woman whose name was Sunei pronounced as Sunny but spelt S-u-n-e-i she made this very clear to everyone especially our poor waitress. The two of you laughed and chatted while I sipped on my glass of water with shaking hands and smiled sheepishly. The countless times our waitress came to our table she always gave me a sympathetic look as if I were the one being wronged and I suppose in a way I was. I guess she could see from wherever she was that my feet and legs were constantly being kicked and stomped on by Sunei, the one time you got up to use the bathroom she looked like she was about to reach across the table and smack me. I’m sure the defiant look in my eyes was enough to make her do so but there the waitress was again, she stayed and spoke to me until you came back and then she flitted away. Thinking back on it I wish I kept in touch with her, she was so gracious to me that night.
I was surprised when you sat down and started asking me questions, I was okay with little to no attention but when you turned your eyes to me it felt like every single prying eye in the restaurant was on me and it made my palms a bit sweaty. 
“...I think it looks nice! Personally it's one of my favorite paintings a client of ours has ever submitted. What do you think? We aren't supposed to share these things until the gallery is open but I think you'll appreciate it.” You turned your phone to me and I swear my heart stopped beating when I first laid eyes on that magnificent painting. I was speechless at how someone could make something so elaborate yet abstract, so beautiful but so terribly sad. 
“Why would you show it to them Luhan ?! You'd risk your job and for wh-” 
“I think that's quite enough Ms. Xiu. And that's Mr. Xiao to you we're business partners yes, but not much more than that.” Sunei drew back and I almost felt bad for her.
The rest of dinner was quiet and rather stifling if you ask me but you graciously paid for all of us and you opened the car door for me asking me to wait, that it would only be a moment. 
*** 
“Do you love me?” you whispered it upon my lips on my doorstep after a very long night. Never before had I been uncomfortable under your gaze but there you were looking at me intently and I felt as though I was being stripped naked and pinned on a bulletin board for everyone to see. It was hot and my skin itched but not the kind that scratching would get rid of. My throat closed and I wanted to leave, I wanted to get up and flee. But where to? I had nowhere to go if it wasn't with you. And then you smiled at me , a real genuine smile and I felt the entire world crashing on my shoulders. 
 “It's okay, you don't need to answer.” 
It wasn't really ok though. 
That night I had a dream of you and I. We were on a vacation on some desolate island and we took a walk. We hadn’t exchanged any words but we walked along the path you leading the way and I followed quickly behind defeated like a dog with it’s tail tucked between its legs.
2 notes · View notes
yuhenglesbian · 6 years
Text
Sky Full of Stars
Tumblr media
Pairing: Fan Chengcheng x Reader
Requested by: None, I’m just a sucker for this boy
Genre: Fluff (? I think?) + a little Angst
Word Count: 1,646
A/N: I’ve been thinking of this for the longest time– like for about two weeks. I’m a shameless lover of Chengcheng’s beauty spots and how they are literally everywhere and I honestly want to fight him because he hides ALL T H I R T E E N of them. And I’m sure he hides more but can’t see inside his clothes so I can’t tell. Which is why we have this fic even though ideally I should work on the requests I’ve received (and I am, I swear I’ll post those after 1st May because my exams end that day yay)
Also idk if these fit but Trigger Warnings for hinted body and self esteem issues. 
Chengcheng hated his moles. He hated how they were almost all over his face and his neck– like specks of paint on a plain T-shirt. He hated it. Ever since he was a child, he couldn’t help but compare his mole studded skin to his older sister’s almost clear skin.
It got worse once he started as a trainee under Yuehua Entertainment and met other trainees. Everyone was so beautiful to him, like sunshine from sheer curtains and like the mornings after it had rained and sunrises. Beautiful in ways, he couldn’t ever see himself fitting into despite what his mother and sister constantly told him.
He couldn’t see himself as beautiful. Especially not with all those moles. So he hid them every time he had to train; very few people apart from his mother and sister knew he even had more than the moles on the base of his neck. Justin knew because they were roommates. Zhengting had found out when he walked in on Chengcheng going through the mechanisms of covering them. Wenjun, Zeren, Quanzhe and Xinchun had found out on a particularly hot day when he’d decided it was too hot for concealer and for a shirt while they were practicing.
You knew because he’d told you. You’d been the only person he’d voluntarily told about the moles. When you’d seen them for the first time, you’d touched each of them gently with your fingers as if connecting lines and he’d looked at you confused and afraid; waiting for you to confirm his worst feelings and tell him you thought they were ugly.
“They’re not moles, Fu Xixi,” you’d said instead, “they’re beauty marks. They just prove how beautiful you are because you have so many.”
While he didn’t fully truly believe that, he knew he hadn’t loved anyone– even you– as much as he loved you at that moment. He doubted if he would ever love someone as much as he loved you then.
“Thank you,” he’d responded, voice so low you wouldn’t have heard him if you had been even a breath farther. “Thank you for loving me.”
You’d smiled then, your heart aching because you could feel how much he was afraid even until this moment. You didn’t have words for him; you’d simply stood on your tiptoes and kissed his jaw right where his beauty mark was. “Thank you for letting me love you,” you whispered into his ear.
***
One of your favourite things to do was to trace your fingers along Chengcheng’s skin, connecting all the beauty marks that studded his skin, creating invisible, unnamed constellations on his skin. Sometimes, on mornings when you woke up before him– which was rare because he had practice– you’d lie quietly next to him doing nothing but trailing your finger across his skin as he slept.
You had been mildly surprised to find out that the beauty marks didn’t stop at the base of his neck where the twin marks were the most prominent. His entire body was full of them and you loved it– loved how almost every inch of his skin was covered with them almost as much as he seemed to hate them in spite of how many times you’d told him.
“They’re not beautiful,” he’d say on some of his worst days. “I’m not beautiful. You’re probably the only person who thinks I’m beautiful without all this makeup. I’d probably be the ugliest trainee on Idol Producer if the fans found out– that’s how ugly I am.”
You’d have to wait for the worst of storm to pass before you could move closer and hold him close to you while he let out all the pent up frustration and self-hatred. It would seem worse every time he came back home to his family when he got breaks in between the shooting for Idol Producer. You kept up with the show and you could see how he hid even the ones on the base of his neck– making it a point to wear only high-necked shirts and turtlenecks whenever he could.
So you couldn’t help but be relieved once he had returned home– regardless of how short his time back home was. You’d stay over at his house for as long as he stayed; the Fan household was always glad to have you staying with them– especially his mother who often joked that you were the only one who could convince him about something when he was going through one of his bad days.
You’d spend the nights in Chengcheng’s room, most of the time neither of you did anything. He’d be too tired to even talk on the nights he came back from the shootings– he’d fall asleep the minute he had gotten comfortable enough. Sometimes, you’d lie next to him and fill him on what he’d missed while he was gone while he slowly but surely, fell asleep. You couldn’t help but smile whenever you noticed how he fell asleep– an arm almost always around you, his bare chest against your shoulder, no makeup hiding his marks. Occasionally, when his face was close enough, you’d kiss that one small beauty mark near his left eye which especially didn’t get to make even accidental appearances when he was on camera– except for that one time it had and had gone virtually unnoticed by everyone.
It would always be too easy to fall asleep when he was sleeping peacefully next to you. Almost too easy especially when you wanted only to stay awake a little longer and run your fingers on his skin, feeling the almost imperceptible bumps the beauty marks created, making them easy to find even in the darkness of the room. But you’d never manage more than once– if at all– before you fell asleep to the comfort of how close he was and to how gentle and rhythmic his breathing was.
***
It was one of those nights when neither of you could fall asleep that found your fingers touching Chengcheng’s skin, counting all the beauty marks he had while he closed his eyes distracting himself from everything but the sound of your voice as you whispered all the counting.
It was moments until he finally spoke. “Y/N.”
“Hmm?” you whispered, your fingers on his jaw, tracing along the skin to the two beauty marks on his ear to the many on the side of his neck which was exposed as he faced you in the dark and tracing back to the on single one on the side of his jaw.
He raised his hand to cup yours, stopping the rhythmic movement of your fingers. “Why do you even love me?” he asked and the quiver in his voice wasn’t something you could miss especially at the closeness– it was almost tangible in the darkness of the room.
So tangible you have to get up a little so to look at him in the eye. “What?”
He looks up at you and you can tell he’s having one of those nights where he questions everything he’s ever done and everything that anyone’s ever said to him. “What sort of question is that, Fan Chengcheng?” you ask him quietly. “Is everything okay?”
And he shakes his head but he answers yes. “It’s just,” he sighs as you lay down next to him again, hand on his cheeks cupping his face, “you knew all of us– like all of us who’re on the show– but when I asked you out you agreed.”
“Because I liked you.”
“Why would you?” he asks. “I’m not Zhengting or Xinchun or Wenjun or–”
“You’re not,” you agree. “You’re not the same as them, you’re not like them.”
He looks at you confused. “Then why? If you agree, then you know how amazing they are– they’re like the sun and then there’s me. How can you like me?”
“Because you’re like stars, Chengcheng,” you tell him. “You aren’t the sun. You’re too mellowed for that– you don’t shine to daze everyone. You’re not beautiful like them.”
He’s quiet for a long time before you speak again. “You’re beautiful in your own way, Chengcheng– like how the night sky is beautiful. You’re the night sky and I love you.” “I’m… the night sky?”
You nod and run your fingers along his skin, connecting each of his beauty marks with invisible lines without looking away from his face. It’s moments until your fingers reach his face to the mole under his left eye and his gaze flickers from your face to the finger touching that mark before he looks at you again, his eyes questioning.
“Everytime I see you, I have to stop to remind myself to breathe because when I look at you– with all the beauty marks that you hide away all the time–it’s like looking at a sky filled with galaxies and constellations. Except I can touch these stars. I can hold the galaxies close and trace the constellations along their paths. I can kiss these stars.”
You move closer and kiss the beauty mark under his eye and you can feel his eyelashes flutter shut against your skin. “And that’s why, to me, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met or will ever meet.”
You move away only for him to move closer and bury his face in the crook of your neck and plant kisses. “I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispers over and over between kisses. “I love you.” You wrap your arms around him and bury your fingers in his hair, holding him against you. “I love you too,” you tell him.
It’s not long until he falls asleep, face still buried in your neck, holding you in a hug. You smile once you can hear his breathing turn rhythmic. You close your eyes listening for a while until sleep overcomes you as well.
Link to part 2 (of sorts)
332 notes · View notes
solarswonderland · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
how has no one pointed out the similarities between cai xukun and sunghoon like they literally look like twins 😭
169 notes · View notes
svchengss · 2 years
Text
baby, it’s cold outside | d.sc
Tumblr media
PAIRING: dong sicheng x reader
GENRE: fluff, slight humour
WORD COUNT: 1676 words
WARNINGS: slipping on the ice rink??
SUMMARY: the pianist performing at the hotel bar caught your eyes, later inviting you to spend some time with him
A/N: hi this is written for the holiday event, peppermint latte by @ficscafe and the fic exchange event hosted by nini @cherryutas [💌 @yutahoes] ! hope u enjoy this christmas themed fic :D happy holidays <3
Tumblr media
you look out the window, witnessing a scene where joyful children are shouting at each other while forming snowballs in the palm of their hands. inspecting the watch wrapped around your wrist, it’s now 10:45 pm. you did one last check to make sure that everything is packed in your suitcase, it’d be bothersome to have your belongings lost in a hotel room.
once all is done, you pull your suitcase to the lift and press the buttons to the lobby. you took a quick glance at the lockscreen of your phone to see four missed calls by your mother, probably asking when you’re coming back home tonight. you managed to send a short reply saying that you’re about to check out. once a soft ding was heard, you stepped out of the lift and placed your suitcase somewhere among the sofas in the lobby.
wondering if it might be too early to check out, you decided to have a few drinks at the bar. a melodic rhythm can be heard from the piano, specifically a young man who’s busy pressing his fingers onto the tiles. you pressed your lips together while picking something from the menu display, a few seconds passed before you finally asked the barista to whip up a hot chocolate drink - which happened to be a guest favourite, according to the menu itself.
while waiting for the drink to be served, you occupied a bar stool and continued to observe the pianist’s movements which seemed to follow the beat of the music he’s playing. you also noticed that he’s quite tall, his hair strands are neatly placed and he’s looking quite handsome in that white tuxedo with a golden tie. wishing a quick thank you to the barista who placed the mug onto the countertop, you took a quick sip of the drink. it’s warm, contrasting the cold weather outside and the sweet aftertaste lingers on your tongue.
while busy scrolling through your phone, you heard a familiar tune being hummed out through the speakers. glancing at the pianist again, he’s now adjusting the microphone stand so that it’s comfortable enough for him to carry out with his next performance.
I really can't stay
Baby it's cold outside
I gotta go away
Baby it's cold outside
that’s it, a classic favourite of yours, you can listen to it all day. silently enjoying the performance, you gave the barista a quick smile before looking back towards the pianist who’s now singing while looking at the scorebook and his fingers are gracefully running across the keys.
This evening has been
Been hoping that you'd dropped in
So very nice
I'll hold your hands they're just like ice
you could feel his eyes catching on to your lingering ones, making you profusely break eye contact and try to change your vision towards the scene outside, pedestrians wearing thick coats walking back home. sneaking a quick peek at him again, you could see his lips curled upwards, probably a smile.
Get over that old out
Baby it's cold
Baby it's cold outside
before you know it, the song is already over and he finished off the session with a little riff. wait, is he walking towards you now?
“hey, noticed you were staring for quite a long time just now,” he said, taking the empty bar stool next to yours. holy crap, he knows this whole time? you tried to play it cool though, saying that you were simply entertained with his session. an understanding hum escaped his lips before asking the barista for a drink.
“sicheng by the way, dong sicheng. and you?” he rested his elbow against the marble counter, his fingers supporting his leaning head. another mental note, his fingers are slender and beautiful. you simply responded with your name, noticing him slightly nodding at the answer.
“well, are you doing anything on this snowy night?” he asked, sipping lightly from the glass he’s holding.
“and why do you ask?” you raised an eyebrow. only talking for a matter of only five minuted probably, you’re quite cautious about it.
“relax, there’s like a huge christmas tree outside in the park, quite beautiful if you ask me. just wondering if you want to go see it together or some sort,” you considered his offer for a while. well, it’s not like a secluded place or something, it’s a park. also, why not live up a little?
“sure, whatever,” you nodded, finishing up the hot chocolate leftovers inside your mug.
“my lady?” he stuck his hand in front of you. you slightly pushed him away, making him giggle softly.
Tumblr media
the lights hanging neatly above the metal posts glimmered all over the park, making it a serene scene. couples and families walk past you, most of them taking pictures of each other. one thing’s for sure, it’s damn freezing out here. even with your thick fur coat and the wool beanie on your head, you’re wishing that you’re resting in a warm and cozy cabin with the fireplace lit and songs playing from the record player. an oddly specific imagination.
“isn’t it pretty?” sicheng voiced out, looking up towards the peak of the tree. a golden, illuminating star rested on the very top, its light reflecting onto his eyes. you noticed that it looks like little stars are twinkling inside his eyes but you don’t tell him, instead letting out a hum of acknowledgement and look up towards the night sky.
“is there something bothering you?” he turned his heels towards you, now having his full attention on you.
“what? no, i’m good. thanks for, um, asking though,” you nodded awkwardly, making him do the same. god, you’re supposed to be on your way home now and you’re still here, with a boy.
you continue making your way through the park, finding yourself in the middle of a snowball fight between little kids. you might’ve noticed it a little too late when someone threw a snowball towards you and hit your left shoulder. it didn’t actually hurt, you were rather surprised by the sudden attack.
“hey, watch it,” sicheng grabbed your hand and led you towards the fenced cliff where you observed people skating on the ice rink.
“do you know how to ice skate?” you looked up towards him, making him slightly tilt his head upon your sudden question.
“i’d say i’m a mid, why?” he then proceeded to nod when you told him about the ice skating platform that you want to try out.
Tumblr media
“woah, didn’t know it would be this slippery,” sicheng mumbled out, spreading out his limbs in order to balance himself. meanwhile, you were busy gliding across the rink full of grace, the ice skating lessons you took when you were four turned out to be quite useful.
“you need help, big guy?” you slid towards his side, reaching out onto his waist. that gesture of yours managed to make his breath stutter, now letting out a few fake coughs. he held onto your hands and you led him for a few rounds around the perimeter. when he finally slipped and fell on his hands, you can’t help but snicker a little. he only smiled, looking at how your laugh lights up your whole face.
after god knows how long you’re on the ice rink, you finally checked the time on your watch only to find out that it’s now midnight.
“sicheng, it was nice meeting you tonight but i really need to get home,” you said, legs quickly walking back to the hotel lobby where you haven’t even checked out yet.
“well, i’ll take you home, then,” he offered, heading to the garage to start his engine while you handled the check-out process at the receptionist counter. with the return of the key card, you grabbed your suitcase and walked outside, waiting for sicheng who’s supposedly driving you home tonight. when his car pulled up in front of you, he walked out to help you place your suitcase in the car trunk and opened the passenger door for you.
“so, where to my lady?” he asked, adjusting the position of the rear view mirror and fastened his seatbelt. you keyed in your home address in the search bar of his phone before fastening yours too. he played some music from his phone before following the directions on the app.
“um, you work for the hotel or something?” you managed to make small talk, feeling awkward by how quiet it is.
“nope, only a small gig tonight. you know, nearing christmas so the management wanted something special,” he responded.
“well, you’re good at piano,” you muttered out, making him chuckle.
“thanks for the compliment, you’re a good ice skater, figure skating?”
“no, not anymore at least,” you simply responded. the conversation between you two went on for an estimated 15 minutes before he finally pressed the brakes, now stopping the vehicle in front of your house. the light is now dim, probably because most of the people there are now sound asleep.
“thanks for driving me home, really appreciate your kindness,” you said as sicheng lifted your suitcase out of the trunk.
“nah, no worries. it’s all good,” he walked you to the front gate.
“but for real, maybe we should grab a couple drinks later to, you know, repay you?” you offered.
“is this your way of asking for my number?” he laughed, puffs of breath visibly forming from his mouth. you could feel your cheeks heat up while he effortlessly keyed in his phone number on your phone.
“um, good night and drive safe,” you waved at him from your spot, he’s now fastening his seatbelt.
“good night,” he wished you one last time before drawing his window upwards. his vehicle now leaving you alone, disappearing in a matter of seconds. you smiled at yourself before opening the front door, only to be met by your younger brother who’s watching christmas movies on the television.
“well, well, well. who was that, huh?” he smirked.
“oh, shut up.”
72 notes · View notes
multiphandomunnies · 4 days
Text
Misc. groups
After school
Tumblr media
Reactions
How they are with first gf
Nana
Gf! Nana
Astro
Tumblr media
Rocky
Long night
Clc
Tumblr media
Reactions
Fem! Crush coming out
4 minute
Tumblr media
Reactions
S.o is a scorpio
Kard
Tumblr media
Reactions
Soulmate au
Highlight
Tumblr media
Yoseop
Jealousy is poison
Vixx
Tumblr media
Reactions
S.o using chopsticks for the first time
Winner
Tumblr media
Scenarios
Jealous winner
Mino
Not enough?
2ne1
Tumblr media
Reactions
S.o is a Scorpio
S.o is a leo
Nine percent
Tumblr media
Reactions
Making s.o feel better
They pass out during practice and you find out
Stood up by crush
Cai Xukun
Let’s meet in the garden
Sonamoo
Tumblr media
Reactions
Gf kisses them first
Hearing their s.o’s morning voice
Crush has the same patronus as them
Cuddling with their s.o for the first time
d.ana
girlfriend d.ana
A.C.E
Tumblr media
Reactions
S.o is clumsy
Bf wearing feminine clothes
S.o falls asleep on their lap
Matilda
Tumblr media
Reactions
S.o shows up at fan meet
B1A4
Tumblr media
Reactions
Gf bites their neck
Crush lays their head on their lap
Scenarios
How B1A4 would kiss
How they are on dates
Gugudan
Tumblr media
Sejeong
Newly weds
BTOB
Tumblr media
Minhyuk
Bf! Minhyuk
Ilhoon
Almost family
Weki Meki
Tumblr media
Doyeon
Gf! Doyeon
Sei
Single mom Au
Itzy
Tumblr media
Reactions
Bf throwing them over their shoulder
AOA
Tumblr media
Jimin
Soulmate au
Wjsn
Tumblr media
Exy
Pottery
Madly in love
Bona
Gf! Bona
Big bang
Tumblr media
Reactions
S.o has a different religion
Scenarios
As types of jealous
Imagines
Loving boyfriend
1 note · View note
tywritesxpop · 2 years
Text
Chains of Thievery: Prologue
This contains NSFW content. Do not engage in my works if you are underage. Read to your own discretion.
Not every chapter in this series will have smut. As a whole, this series will be NSFW and feature situations and content that may be triggering for some readers. I will post the appropriate warnings in the beginnings of each chapter, but if I miss anything, please let me know and I will correct it immediately.
Group: WayV Pairing: Winwin x fem!reader Smut Warnings: None Trigger Warnings: Some violence, vague images of chaos and poverty AU: Dystopia Genre (Chapter Specific): Fantasy, Dystopian, Angst WC: 746
<-Teaser / Chapter 1->
The empty streets were dark, silent save for the pelting of raindrops that seemed to get louder with each pant of breath. The torches that normally lined the corners of buildings had long been put out by the unforgiving gust of winds and heavy rain, making it that much more difficult for him to see. More than once he had lost his footing, nearly stepping into potholes filled with puddles or overturned crates that had fallen over. Stray cats hissed at him when he nearly ran over them. The cold air froze his limbs.
He was exhausted.
But he had to keep going.
His brother was depending on him. Waiting for his return. A situation of life or death.
He knew they were following him. He was being hunted by the loyal dogs of whom he stole from. The tattered sack cradled in his arms carried precious cargo, that of which he could not afford to lose. It meant everything to him.
That’s what he kept telling himself. It was his only motivation to keep going. His will was strong enough to beat the harsh weather conditions. His body was quick enough to outrun his pursuers.
…Or so he thought.
He turned a corner, landing on his back with a hard thud. His head made contact with the stone concrete beneath him, rocking his brain inside his skull. But he ignored what sounded like a hard crack to his head in favor of catching his breath. His throat constricted in response to the impact it made with…an arm?
As he inhaled roughly, his chest heaving, he looked up with bleary eyes at the figure standing above him. The assailant turned his arm back and forth, stretching it after he reached out to stop the thief. A coy smirk graced his handsome face as he looked down at his target, a victorious sense of pride filling his lungs as he inhaled, then exhaled in satisfaction.
The fallen man knew who he faced. His hair stuck to his face from the rain, and the dark made it hard to clearly see. But in the moon’s light, he recognized his attacker. The most loyal of dogs.
The assailant glanced over to the now torn sack that had fallen a few feet away, it’s green and leafy contents spilling out. “Tsk tsk tsk.” He took slow steps towards the sack, toeing it with his worn-down boots. His men finally appeared, pointing their weapons down at the thief, daring him to give them a reason to fire.
Two of the men dragged the thief to his knees, bringing his hands behind his back and shackling his wrists. The assumed leader watched as they did this, taking pity on the man. But he had orders, and that was to retrieve the stolen property of the Ages and bring the thief before his Masters.
He knelt down in front of the thief, observing the lack of resistance from him. “Must’ve hit your head pretty hard there. Sorry about that.” He could see the man’s eyes begin to cloud. “Well that won’t do.” He stood up and faced his men. “Bring him to get patched up, then we’ll present him to the Masters.” With one final look at the newly taken prisoner, he said, “I hope you have a good reason for stealing from Milady, pretty boy.”
~~~~~
The Age of Calamity.
The world was thrust into a time of darkness. Drought. Famine. War. Disease.
Despair.
The times of improvement and technology had receded. The survivors were left with the bare minimum. Communication between lands had died with the natural way of life.
Corpses littered the land, wildlife had mutated into fowl creatures, and food had been limited.
Mankind had been left to gather what was left of itself, creating one kingdom of sorts. They called this the Everland.
Hoping to maintain the shreds of humanity they could, they elected their leaders through fair democracy. Through their brilliance, mankind survived.
But their time of peace and hope dwindled.
Over centuries, the elected leaders became the chosen leaders, being named the Masters of Ages. The streets of the Everland became slums, sheltering nothing less than orphans and strays of poverty. The weak and helpless were forced to live day after day, wondering if they would open their eyes the next morning.
The Masters of Ages rule the land and neglect the cries of their people, living in luxury and ignorance.
Or so, that’s what they believe.
10 notes · View notes
lucaspicsonly · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
lucas bubble update~
85 notes · View notes